"There they go," cried the doctor; "we are safe!"
But the brave surgeon was too hasty in his conclusion; the Cossacks, describing a circle in their career, massed their force, and then, with lance in rest, bending over their horses' necks, came right on the partisans, shouting "Hurrah! hurrah!"
Frantz and the others threw themselves before the sledge.
It was a terrible moment. Lance grated against bayonet; cries of rage replied to curses. Beneath the old oak, through the branches of which only a few scattered moonbeams fell, rearing horses, with manes erect, struggled up from the field to the path, bearing barbarous riders with blazing eyes and uplifted arms, striking furiously, advancing, recoiling, uttering yells that, might chill the stoutest hearts.
Louise and the old mistress of Bois-de-Chênes stood erect in the sledge, pale as death. Doctor Lorquin, before them, parried, lunged, and struck, crying the while:
"Down, down! Morbleu! Lie down!"
But they heard him not.
Louise, in the midst of the tumult, thought only of protecting Catherine, and Catherine—imagine her horror when she saw Yegof, on a tall, bony horse, among the assailants—Yegof, his crown upon his head, his unkempt beard and dogskin mantle floating on the wind, and a lance in his hand. She saw him there plainly, as if it were broad day, flourishing his long weapon not ten paces from her, and she saw his gleaming eyes fixed on hers.
The most resolute souls seem often utterly broken by the pursuit of a relentless and inflexible fate. What was to be done? Submit—yield to that fate. The old woman believed herself doomed; she saw the mingled combat—men striking and falling in the clear moonlight; she saw riderless horses dashing over the field; she saw the attic window of the forester's lodge open, and old Cuny aim without daring to fire into the mass. She saw all these things with strange distinctness, but she kept repeating to herself, "The fool has returned; whatever may happen, he will hang my head to his saddle-bow. My dream is true—true!"
And indeed, everything seemed to justify her fears. The mountaineers, too feeble in numbers, began to give way. Soon, like a whirlwind, the Cossacks burst upon the road, and a lance's point passed through the old woman's hair, so that she felt the cold steel pass across her neck.