About ten minutes later, there was the rolling of a drum, and all this ma.s.s of men made a rush at the breastworks, their officers shouting, "Forward!"
The earth shook with them.
Materne, springing up in the trench, with quivering lips and in a terrible voice, cried out, "To your feet! to your feet!"
It was time: for a good number of these Germans,--nearly all students in philosophy, law, and medicine, heroes of the taverns of Munich, Jena, and other places--who fought against us, because they had been promised great things after Napoleon"s fall--all these intrepid fellows were climbing the icy slope, and endeavoring to jump into the intrenchment.
But they were received with the b.u.t.t-end of the musket, and fell back in disorder.
It was then that the gallant conduct of the old wood-cutter Rochart was observable, knocking over, as he did, more than ten "kaiserlichs," whom he took by the shoulder and hurled down the incline. Old Materne"s bayonet was red with blood; and little Riffi never ceased loading his musket and firing into the ma.s.s of Germans with great spirit. Joseph Larnette, who unluckily received a bullet in his eye; Hans Baumgarten, who had his shoulder smashed; Daniel Spitz, who lost two fingers by a sabre-cut, and many others, whose names should be honored and revered for ages--all these never once left off firing and reloading their guns.
Below the slope fearful cries were heard, while above nothing but bristling bayonets and men on horseback were to be seen.
This lasted a good quarter of an hour. No one knew what the Germans would do, since there was no pa.s.sage; when they suddenly decided on going away. Most of the students had fallen, and the others--old campaigners used to honorable retreats--no longer fought with the same steadiness.
At first they retreated slowly, then more quickly. Their officers struck them from behind with the flat end of their swords; the musketry-fire pursued them; and, finally, they ran away with as much precipitation as they had been orderly in advancing.
Materne, and fifty others, rose upon the barricades, the old hunter brandishing his carbine, and bursting into hearty roars of laughter.
At the foot of the bank were heaps of wounded dragging themselves along the ground. The trodden-down snow was red with blood. In the midst of the piles of dead were two young officers, still alive, but unable to disengage themselves from their dead horses.
It was horrible! But men are, in fact, savages: there was not one among the mountaineers who pitied those poor wretches; but, on the contrary, they seemed to rejoice at the sight.
Little Riffi, transported with a n.o.ble enthusiasm, just then glided out along the bank. To the left, underneath the breastworks, he had caught sight of. a superb horse, which had belonged to the colonel killed by Materne, and had retired unhurt into his nook.
"Thou shalt be mine," said he to himself. "Sapience will be astonished!"
All the others envied him. He seized the horse by the bridle and sprang upon him; but judge of the general stupefaction, and of Riffi"s in particular, when this n.o.ble animal began to shape his course toward the Germans in full gallop.
The little tailor lifted his hands to heaven, imploring G.o.d and all the saints.
Materne would have liked much to fire; but he dared not, the horse went so fast.
At last Riffi disappeared amid the bayonets of the enemy.
Everybody thought he had been killed. However, an hour later, he was to be seen pa.s.sing along the main street of Grandfontaine, his hands tied behind him, and Corporal Knout at his back, bearing his emblem of office.
Poor Riffi! He alone did not partake of the triumph, and his comrades laughed at his misfortune, as though he had been but a "kaiserlich."
Such is the character of men; so long as they are happy themselves, the misery of others grieves them but little.
CHAPTER XV
THE BATTLE RENEWED
The mountaineers were almost beside themselves with enthusiasm: they lifted their hands and bepraised one another, as if they were the cream of mankind.
Catherine, Louise, Doctor Lorquin and all the others came out of the farm, cheering and congratulating each other, gazing at the marks of the bullets and at the bank blackened with powder; then at Joseph Larnette stretched in his hole, having his head smashed; at Baumgarten, who, with his arm hanging down, walked in great pallor toward the ambulance; and then at Daniel Spitz, who, in spite of his sabre-cut, wanted to stay and fight; but the doctor would not hear of it, and forced him to enter the farm.
Louise came up with the little cart, and poured out brandy for the combatants; while Catherine Lefevre, standing at the edge of the sloping bank, watched the dead and wounded scattered over the road, and led up to by long lines of blood. There were both young and old among them, with faces white as wax, wide-opened eyes, and outstretched arms.
Some few tried to raise themselves, but no sooner had they done so than they fell back again; others looked up as though they were afraid of receiving some more bullets, and dragged themselves along the bank in order to get under shelter.
Many of them seemed resigned to their fate, and were looking for a place to die, or else watching their retreating regiment on its way to Framont--that regiment with which they had quitted their homes, with which they had made a long campaign, and which was now abandoning them!
"It will see old Germany again!" they thought. "And when some one asks the captain or the sergeant, "Did you know such a one--Hans, Kasper, Nickel, of the 1st or of the 2d company?" they will reply, "Ah! I think so. Had he not a scar on the ear, or on the cheek? fair or dark hair? five feet six in height? Yes, I know him. He was buried in France, near a little village whose name I do not remember. Some mountaineers killed him the same day big Major Yeri-Peter was killed.
He was a fine fellow!" And then it is, "Good-day to you.""
Perhaps, too, there were some of them who dreamed of their mother, or of a pretty girl left behind them, Gretchen or Lotchen, who had given, them a ribbon, and shed hot tears when they left: "I will await thy return, Kasper. I will only marry thee! Yes, yes, thou wilt have to wait long!"
It was not pleasant to think of.
Madame Lefevre, seeing this, thought of Gaspard. Hullin, who came up with Lagarmitte, cried out in a joyous tone, "Well, my boys, you have been under fire. Bravo! everything goes well. The Germans will have no occasion to boast of this day."
Then he embraced Louise, and hurried up to Catherine.
"Are you satisfied, Catherine? There! our success is certain. But what is the matter? You do not smile."
"Yes, Jean-Claude, all goes well. I am satisfied. But look down at the road. What a butchery!"
"It is only what happens in war," replied Hullin, gravely.
"Could we not go and help that little fellow down there, who watches us with his large blue eyes? He makes me feel so sad. Or that tall, dark man, who is binding his leg with his handkerchief?"
"Impossible, Catherine. I am very sorry. We should have to cut steps in the ice to get down, and the Germans, who will be back in an hour or two, would take advantage of them. Let us go. The victory must be announced in all the villages--to Labarbe, Jerome, and Piorette. Ho!
Simon, Niklo, Marchal, come here. You will have to set out immediately, and carry the great tidings to our comrades. Materne, keep thy eyes open, and warn me at the slightest movement."
They approached the farm, and, as he pa.s.sed, Jean-Claude took a look at the reserve, Marc Dives being on horseback surrounded by his men. The smuggler complained bitterly of being left with nothing to do, as if his honor were tarnished thereby.
"Bah!" said Hullin, "so much the better! Besides, thou keepest guard over our right. Look at that flat ground down there. If we are attacked from that point, thou wilt have to march!"
Dives made no answer; he looked both sad and indignant, nor did his stalwart smugglers, wrapped in their cloaks, their long swords hanging by their sides, seem at all in a better humor; one might have said that they were meditating some revenge.
Hullin, not succeeding in consoling them, entered the farm-house.
Doctor Lorquin was extracting the ball from Baumgarten"s wound, who was making terrible cries.
Pelsly, on the doorstep, was trembling all over. Jean-Claude asked him for paper and ink, in order to transmit his orders through the mountain; but the poor anabaptist could hardly give them to him, so great was his trouble. However, he succeeded at last, and the messengers departed, proud of being charged to announce the first battle and victory.
A few mountaineers were in the large room, warming themselves at the oven and talking animatedly. Daniel Spitz had already undergone amputation of his two fingers, and sat behind the stove with his hand bound up.
Those who had been posted behind the abatis before daybreak, not having breakfasted, were now eating a crust of bread and drinking a gla.s.s of wine, shouting, gesticulating, and making great bravado meanwhile.
Then they went out, looked at the intrenchments, came back to warm themselves again, and laughed fit to split their sides when they spoke of Riffi, and his wails and cries on horseback.
It was eleven o"clock. These incomings and outgoings lasted till twelve, when Marc Dives suddenly came into the room, calling out:--"Hullin! Where is Hullin?"
"Here I am."