He strode straight onward, with outstretched neck, like a wild beast rushing at its prey. Hans flew before, and they disappeared in the gorge of Blutfeld.
Chapter XIX.
Toward two o'clock that night the snow began to fall, and at daybreak it rested inches deep upon the men at the bivouacs.
The Germans had left Grandfontaine, Framont, and even Schirmeck, and black spots far away on the plains of Alsace showed where their battalions were in full retreat.
Hullin, roused at early dawn, inspected the bivouacs; he stopped for a few minutes to gaze at the plateau—the scene of Dives's charge at the cannon pointed down the mountain side, the partisans stretched around the fires, and the pacing sentries; then satisfied that all was well, he returned to the farm-house where Catherine and Louise were yet sleeping.
The gray morning was entering at the windows. A few wounded, whom the fires of fever had already seized, shrieked loudly for their wives and children. Then the hum of many voices arose, and at last Catherine and Louise appeared, and saw Jean-Claude seated in a corner of a window; ashamed to be thought more devoted to slumber than he, they hastened to bid him good morning.
"Well!" said Catherine inquiringly.
"They are gone, and we are masters of the road."
This assurance did not seem sufficient for the old woman. She gazed through the windows, and saw the Austrians far off in Alsace. Still her face bore the impress of an indefinable uneasiness.