But no one answered; and after wandering thus, feeling his way, and often thinking he was moving on when he made not a step, he fell to the ground on his face crying,
"My children! Catherine! They are coming! We are saved!"
There was a dull murmur; it seemed as if the dead were awakening. There was a short peal of laughter. It was Hexe-Baizel, crazed through suffering; then Catherine cried:
"Hullin! Hullin! Who spoke?"
Jean-Claude, overcoming his emotion, shouted in a firmer voice:
"Jerome, Catherine, Materne, all of you! Are you dead? Do you not see yonder fire on the side of Blanru? It is Pivrette coining to our rescue!"
At the same instant a crash rolled like a tempest through the gorges of the Jaegerthal. The trump of judgment could not have produced a greater effect upon the besieged. At once all were awake and listening.
"It is Pivrette! It is Marc!" cried broken voices, sounding hollow as those of skeletons. "They are coming to save us!"
They tried to rise. Some fell back sobbing; they could no longer weep. A second crash brought all to their feet.