Why he had come was that he had received news that a regiment of Austrians was pushing forward to get possession of the fort. If they succeeded, it would be a serious matter for the French army, and La Tour had set out instantly to warn the garrison. The fort was ten miles distant by road, but he had found a young goatherd to take him a short way across the mountains.
The door yielded as the grenadier flung his weight against it: he gave a shout as he burst into the court, but no one answered it. "The cowards!" he exclaimed in indignation, "they have deserted the place! The mean-spirited rascals! Would that I had the hanging of them!"
It was but too true: the garrison had evidently been warned of the approach of the enemy, and had fled after the main body of the French army. They had gone off in a great hurry, for muskets lay scattered about on the ground. "Villains!" muttered La Tour, and, having completed his survey of the place, he began to prepare for the Austrians. The dauntless soldier knew that if he could delay the enemy's movements for even twenty-four hours, it would be of enormous value to his countrymen. The fort was in a fine position, at the head of a steep pass, and La Tour meant to hold it as long as there was life in his lean, strong body.
There were some thirty muskets, and these he loaded; he then barricaded the heavy door as well as he could, ate a hearty meal—plenty of provisions were left fortunately—and sat down to await the enemy.
The night came on, and presently the grenadier caught the sound of footsteps tramping up the narrow pass. Instantly he fired a couple of shots into the darkness and heard the footsteps retreating. Although desperately weary, the defender of the fort did not dare to close his eyes, and he was glad enough when morning dawned.
"We shall see what will happen now," said La Tour to himself.
As soon as it was light, a soldier with a flag of truce came up the path: the Austrian Government had sent to summon the garrison to surrender.
La Tour naturally did not let the messenger inside. "You can go back and inform your Commandant," he called out, "that we are here to defend the pass for France, and that as long as there is a man left, this fort will not yield."
The envoy retired, and the bold grenadier made ready for action. Presently he found that the Austrians were hauling a small cannon up the pass, and as soon as the gunners came in sight he let fly at them, taking care to keep well under cover himself. Five men went down, one after the other, and the rest beat a retreat.