Hullin had seen the ladders before Materne, and once more his wrath against Dives arose; but he knew that anger then availed naught, and he sent Lagarmitte to order Frantz, who was posted on the other side of Donon, to hasten to the farm with half his men. The brave boy, warned of his father's danger, lost not a moment, and already the black slouched hats were seen climbing the mountain-side. Jean-Claude, breathless, the sweat pouring from his brow, ran to meet them, crying:
"Quick, quick! or all is lost!" He trembled once more with rage, attributing all their misfortunes to the smuggler.
But where was Marc-Dives? In half an hour he had made his way around the ravine, and from his steed saw the two companies of Austrians drawn up at ordered arms, two hundred paces behind the guns, which still kept up their fire upon the intrenchments. He turned to the mountaineers, and in a low voice, while the thunder of the cannon echoed peal upon peal from the valley, and the shouts and shrieks and clatter of the assault rose beyond it, said:
"Comrades, you will fall upon the infantry with the bayonet. I and my men will do the rest. Forward!"
The whole troop advanced in good order to the edge of the wood, tall Piercy of Soldatenthal at their head.
They heard the Werda [Footnote 157] of a sentinel. Two shots replied; then the shout of "Vive la France!" rang to heaven, and the brave mountaineers rushed upon the foe like famished wolves upon their prey.
[Footnote 157: "Who goes there?">[
Dives, erect in his stirrups, looked on and laughed.
"Well done!" he said. "Charge!" The earth shook beneath the shock. Neither Austrians nor partisans fired; for a while nothing was heard but the clash of bayonets or the dull thud of the clubbed muskets as they fell; then shrieks and groans and cries of rage arose, and from time to time a shot rang out. Friend and foe were mixed and mingled in the savage fray.
The band of smugglers, sabre in hand, sat all this while gazing at the fight, awaiting their leader's signal to engage.