They reached the door, and Hullin, seeing Materne, cried joyously:
"You here, old friend? I have been seeking you for an hour. Where were you?"
"We were carrying old Rochart to the hospital."
Jean-Claude dropped his head sadly; but his joy at the result of the day's battle soon gained the upper hand, and he said:
"Yes, it is mournful, indeed. But such is the fortune of war. Are you or your sons hurt?"
"Not a scratch."
"Thank Heaven! Materne, those who passed through this day's work may well rejoice."
"Yes," cried Marc-Dives, laughing, "I saw old Materne ready to beat a retreat; without those little cannon-shots, things would have had a different ending."
Materne reddened and glanced angrily at the smuggler.
"It is very possible," he answered; "but without the cannon-shots at the beginning, we should not have needed those at the end, and old Rochart and fifty brave fellows would yet have legs and arms—a thing which would not have hurt our victory."