The old soldier said this reluctantly, for the blood leaped hot in his veins, but he had a woman and two children there.
The Cossacks sat still on their horses, and seemed to be waiting. For what were they waiting?
Suddenly and most incomprehensibly, from behind old Lasvène came two shots. Two Cossacks fell. Who had fired? He ran back into the hut. Jacques stood near the chimney, looking at the guns which he had not fired. Who had?
These shots were answered by a furious clamor. A volley was fired into the cottage. Lasvène ran to the other side of the hut, and saw two men running away. It was these men who fired. Both were dressed like gipsies, but one was Cyprien, the lacquey of Monsieur de Talizac.
"We are lost!" thought Lasvène.
Instantly he pulled across the door his old oaken chest, and piled chairs and tables upon it, the bed, everything that was movable in the hut. Then, snatching one gun, he said:
"We must fight. Take the other!"
The Cossacks were amazed, but they fired through the window.
"Now!" cried Lasvène, and an officer fell. Jacques handed him the other gun, and loaded the first.
Again a Cossack fell.