Louise threw herself into the old woman's arms, and Mother Catherine, despite the firmness of her character, could not restrain two great tears, which coursed down her furrowed cheeks; but she was soon herself again. "Come, come!" said she; "all is well. Come Brainstein, eat a morsel of bread and take a glass of wine, and here is a crown for your trouble; I wish I could give as much every week for such a letter."
The postman, well pleased at her bounty, followed her, and Jean-Claude hastened to question him as to the enemy's movements; but he learned nothing new, except that the Allies were besieging Bitche, and Lutzelstein, and that they had lost some hundreds of men in attempting to force the defile of Graufthal.
Chapter XX.
About ten o'clock that night Catherine Lefevre and Louise, after having bid Hullin good-night, retired to their chamber, which was situated over the great hall. In this room were two huge feather beds, with red and blue striped curtains rising to the ceiling.
"Sleep-well, my child," said the old woman. "I can no longer bear up against my weariness."
She threw herself upon her bed, and in a few minutes was in a deep slumber. Louise did not delay following her example.
This lasted mayhap two hours, when a fearful tumult broke upon them.
"To arms! to arms!" shouted fifty voices. "They are on us! To arms!"
Shots resounded, and the tramp of hurrying feet mingled with cries of alarm; but above all was heard Hullin's voice giving orders in short, resolute, ringing tones, and to the left of the farm, from the gorges of Grosmann rose a deep heavy murmur like that of an approaching storm.
"Louise! hearest thou, Louise?" cried Catherine.