"Yes; Frantz told me all about it; something is always going wrong," answered Marc. "But here we are standing in the snow. Let us hope that Pivrette will not let his comrades be crushed, and let us empty our glasses which are yet half full."
Four other smugglers came up, saying that the villain Yegof was likely to return with a swarm of thieves like himself.
"Very true," replied Dives. "We will return to Falkenstein, since Jean-Claude so orders; but we cannot bring our wagon with us; it would hinder our crossing the country, and in an hour all those wretches will be upon us. But let us go to Cuny's. Catherine and Louise will not object to a cup of wine, nor will the others. It will put back your hearts in the right place. Ho! Bruno!"
He took his horse by the bridle. Two wounded men were placed on the sledge. Two others killed, with seven or eight Cossacks, lay stretched upon the snow. They left them as they were, and all entered the old forester's house. Frantz was beginning to console himself for not being on Donon. He had run two Cossacks through the body, and the sight of the lodge put him in good humor. Before the door stood the wagon, laden with cartridges. Cuny came out crying,
"Welcome, Mother Lefevre. What a night for women to be out! Be seated. What is going on yonder?"
While they hastily emptied a bottle, everything had to be again explained. The good old man, dressed in a simple jacket and green knee-breeches, his face wrinkled and his head bald, listened with staring eyes, ever and anon clasping his hands as he cried,
"Great God! good God! in what days do we live! We cannot travel the high roads without fear of being attacked. It is worse than the old stories of the Swedes!"
And he shook his head.
"Come," said Dives, "time presses; forward!"
All went out; the smugglers drove the wagon, which contained several thousands of cartridges and two little casks of brandy, three hundred paces off, to the middle of the valley, and there unharnessed the horses.