Louise distributed brandy among the men, and Catherine Lefevre, standing on the edge of the slope, gazed at the dead and wounded. There lay old and young, their faces white as wax, their eyes wide and staring, their arms outstretched. Some had fallen in attempting to rise, and the faces of some wore a look of fear as if they yet dreaded these terrible blows which the clubbed rifles had dealt. Others had dragged themselves out of the range of fire, and their route was marked by tracks of blood.
Many of the wounded seemed resigned to their lot, and only seeking a place to die; others gazed wistfully after their regiment, which they could discern on its way to Framont—that regiment with which they had quitted their native village, with which they had till then safely braved the toils and dangers of a long campaign, but which now abandoned them to die, far from friends and home, surrounded by an infuriated foe. And they thought how a trembling mother or sister would ask their captain or their sergeant, "Did you know Hans, or Kasper, or Nickel, of the first or second company?" And how coldly would come the reply: "Let me see; it is very likely. Had he not brown hair and blue eyes? Yes, I knew him; we left him in France near a little village, the name of which I forget. He was killed by the mountaineers the same day as the stout major, Yeri-Peter. A brave fellow! Good evening."
Perhaps, too, some among them thought of a pretty Gretchen or Lotchen, who had given them a ribbon, and wept hot tears at their departure, and sobbed, "I will wait for you, Kasper. I will marry no one but you!" Thou wilt wait long, poor girl!
All this was not very pleasant, and Mother Lefevre's thoughts, as she gazed, wandered to Gaspard. Hullin, however, soon came with Lagarmitte to where she stood, and cried exultantly:
"Hurrah, boys! you have seen fire, and those Germans yonder will not boast much of this day's work."
He ran to embrace Louise, and then ran back to Catherine.
"Are you satisfied, Mother Lefevre? Fortune smiles; but what is the matter?"
"Yes, Jean-Claude, I am satisfied; all goes well; but look yonder upon the road; what a massacre!"
"War is war," replied Hullin gravely.
"Is there no way of helping that poor fellow there—the one looking up at us with his large blue eyes? O heaven! they pierce my very heart! Or that tall, brown-haired one binding his arm with his handkerchief?"