Between eight and nine o'clock, Father Saumaize, the priest of the village of Charmes, arrived. A few mountaineers then descended to the foot of the slope, and collected the dead who lay there so thick. Then a long trench was dug, to the right of the farm-house, in which partisans and Kaiserliks, in their blouses, their slouched hats, their shakos, and their uniforms, were ranged side by side. The good priest, a tall old man, with locks white as snow, read the ancient prayers for the dead in that rapid and mysterious voice which pierces the very depths of the soul, and seems to summon long-past generations to greet the new-comers to their realms—which calls so vividly to the hearts of the living thoughts of the darkness and terrors of the grave, and of the light and mercy beyond.
All day wagons and sleds kept carrying the wounded to their villages; for Doctor Lorquin, fearing to increase their excitement, was forced to yield to their cries and prayers that they might again see their homes. Toward evening Catherine and Hullin found themselves alone in the great hall; Louise had gone to prepare supper. Great flakes of snow still continued to fall without, and from time to time a sled departed silently bearing its wounded owner buried in straw, sometimes a man, sometimes a woman, leading a horse by the bridle. Catherine, seated at the table, folded bandages with an absent air.
"What ails you, Mother Lefevre?" asked Jean-Claude. "Ever since morning you have been sad and thoughtful. Is this your rejoicing over victory?"
The old woman looked up, and slowly pushing the linen from her, replied:
"True, Jean-Claude; I am anxious."
"Anxious? About what? The enemy is in full retreat, and Frantz Materne, whom I sent to watch them, and all Pivrette's and Jerome's and Labarbe's couriers report that they are returning to Mutzig. Old Materne and Kasper, after having buried the dead, learned at Grandfontaine that not a white coat is to be seen toward Saint Blaize-la-Roche. All this proves that our dragoons of the Spanish wars gave them a warm reception on the Senones road, and they fear to be turned by way of Schirmeck. I see no reason for uneasiness, Catherine."
And Hullin gazed at her with a look of inquiry.
"You will laugh at me again, Jean-Claude," said she; "I have had a dream."
"A dream!"
"Yes; the same that I dreamed at Bois-de-Chênes."