"It is all little better than shooting in the dark," replied Fink; "true, they make it matter of conscience to take good aim, but it is generally a mere accident if their balls take effect. Nothing has happened to our side but a few slight wounds, and I believe those without have not suffered more."
The rolling of wheels was now heard. "Listen! they are drawing back their war-chariots." The firing ceased, and the whole line disappeared in the darkness. "Leave off," continued Fink; "and, Anton, if you have any thing to drink, give it, for these have shown themselves brave men. Then let us quietly await the renewal of the siege."
Anton accordingly had some refreshments distributed to the men, and went through the whole house, dismissing them, and examining the rooms from the cellar upward. As he drew near the women's rooms on the lower story, he heard, even at a distance, a lamentable chaos of voices. Entering, he found the bare walls dimly lighted, the floor covered with straw, on which crouched women and children. The women expressed their terror by every kind of passionate gesture, many ceaselessly imploring the help of Heaven, without any alleviation of their intense misery; others staring straight before them, stunned by the horrors of the night; in short, the pleasantest impression was that made by the children, who, having howled with all their might, had no further care. In the midst of all this wretchedness, these little ones lay, their heads resting on a bundle of clothes, their small hands clenched, sleeping as quietly as in their beds at home, while one young woman sat in a corner rocking her sleeping infant in her arms, apparently forgetful of all besides. At last, still watching the child, she came up to Anton, and asked how her husband was faring.
Meanwhile the enemy made large fires, and part of their soldiery sat near them, and were seen to boil their coffee. There was great disturbance, too, in the village; men were heard shouting and ordering, lights were seen in all directions, and there was rapid coming and going along the streets.
"That does not look like a truce," cried Anton.
At that moment a loud knock was heard at the back door; the friends looked at each other, and rushed down to the court.
"Rothsattel and roebucks," whispered a voice, improvising a password.
"The forester!" cried Anton, pushing back the bars and letting the old man in.
"Shut the gate," said the forester; "they are close on my track. Good-evening to you all; I am come to inquire whether you can make any use of me?"
"Get into the house," cried Anton, "and tell us all."