The sight of the fewness of their defenders chilled the hearts of the besieged; the more so as the Germans, outnumbering them seven or eight to one, began to form two columns of attack to regain the positions they had lost. Their general sent horsemen in every direction with orders, and the lines of bayonets began to move.
"The game is up!" muttered Hullin to Jerome. "What can five or six hundred men do against four thousand in line of battle? The Phalsbourg people will return home, saying, 'We have done our duty!' and Pivrette will be crushed."
All thought the same; but what filled the measure of their despair was to see a long line of Cossacks debouch at full speed into the valley of Charmes, the fool Yegof at their head galloping like the wind, his beard, the tail of his horse, his dog-skin and his red hair streaming behind. He gazed at the rock, and brandished his lance above his head. At the bottom of the valley he spurred toward the enemy's staff. Reaching the general, he made some gestures, pointing to the other side of the plateau of Bois-de Chênes.
"The villain!" exclaimed Hullin. "See! he says Pivrette has no abatis on that side, and that the mountain must be turned."
A column indeed, began its march at once in the direction shown, while another pressed on toward the abatis to mask the movement of the first.
"Materne," cried Jean-Claude, is there no means of sending a bullet after yonder fool?"
The old hunter shook his head.
"None," he answered; "it is impossible; he is not in range."
Even as he spoke, Catherine uttered a wild cry, a scream like that of a falcon.
"Let us crush them!" she shrieked—"crush them as we did at Blutfeld!"