A RECONNOISSANCE
Hullin"s orders had all been carried out; the defiles of the Zorne and of the Sarre were well guarded; while that of Blanru, the extreme point of the position, had been put into a state of defence by Jean-Claude himself and the three hundred men who composed his princ.i.p.al force.
We must now transport ourselves to the southern slopes of the Donon, two kilometres from Grandfontaine, and await further events.
Above the high-road which winds round the hillside up to within two-thirds of the summit, was a farm, surrounded with a few acres of tilled land, the freehold of Pelsly the anabaptist: it was a large building with a flat roof, much needed, so as to prevent its being blown away by the high winds. The out-houses and pigsties were situated at the back, toward the summit of the mountain.
The partisans were encamped near: at their feet lay Grandfontaine and Framont; in a narrow gorge farther on, at the point where the valley takes a turn, rose Schirmeck and its old ma.s.s of feudal ruins; lastly, among the undulations of the chain, the Bruche disappears in a zigzag, under the grayish mists of Alsace. To their left arose the arid peak of the Donon, covered with rocks and a few stunted pines. Before them was the rugged road, its shelving banks thrown down over the snow, and great trees flung across it with all their branches.
The melting snow let the yellow soil be seen in patches here and there, or else formed great drifts, heaped up by the north wind.
It was a grand and severe spectacle. Not a single traveller, not a carriage appeared along the whole length of the road in the valley, winding as far as the eye can reach: it was like a desert. The fires scattered round the farm-house sent up their puffs of damp smoke to the sky, and alone indicated the position of the bivouac.
The mountaineers, seated by their kettles, with their hats slouched over their faces, were very melancholy: three days they had been awaiting the enemy. Among one of the groups, sitting with their legs doubled up, bent shoulders, and pipes in their mouths were old Materne and his two sons.
From time to time Louise appeared on the step of the farm, then quickly re-entered, and set herself again to her work. A great c.o.c.k was scratching up the manure with his claws, and crowing hoa.r.s.ely; two or three fowls were strutting up and down among the bushes. All that was pleasant to look upon; but the chief pleasure of the partisans was to contemplate some magnificent quarters of bacon, with red-and-white sides, which were spitted on greenwood sticks, the fat melting drop by drop on to the small coals--and to fill their flasks at a small cask of brandy placed on Catherine Lefevre"s cart.
Toward eight o"clock in the morning a man suddenly appeared between the great and little Donon; the sentinels perceived him at once; he descended, waving his hat.
A few minutes later Nickel Bentz, the old forest-keeper of the Houpe, was recognized.
The whole camp was roused; they ran to awaken Hullin, who had been sleeping for an hour in the farm-house, on a great straw mattress, side by side with Doctor Lorquin and his dog Pluto.
The three came out, accompanied by the herdsman Lagarmitte, nicknamed Trumpet, and the anabaptist Pelsly--a silent man, having his arms buried to the elbows in the deep pockets of his gray woollen tunic trimmed with pewter clasps, with an immense beard, and the ta.s.sel of his cotton cap half way down his back.
Jean-Claude seemed light-hearted. "Well, Nickel, what is going on down there?" cried he.
"At present, nothing new, Master Jean-Claude; only on the Phalsbourg side one hears something like the rumbling of a storm. Labarbe says that it is cannon, for all night we have seen flashes through the forest of Hildehouse, and since the morning gray clouds have been spreading over the plain."
"The town is attacked," said Hullin; "but what about the Lutzelstein side?"
"One can hear nothing," replied Bentz.
"Then the enemy is trying to turn the place. In any case, the allies are down there: there must be hosts of them in Alsace." And turning toward Materne, who was standing behind him, "We cannot remain any longer in uncertainty," said he; "thou, with thy two sons, go on a reconnoissance."
The old hunter"s face brightened. "So be it! I can stretch my legs a little," said he, "and see if I can"t knock over one of those rascally Austrians or Cossacks."
"Stop an instant, my old fellow! it is not now a question of knocking anybody over; we want to see what is going on. Frantz and Kasper will remain armed; but I know thee: thou must leave thy carbine here, thy powder-flask, and thy hunting-knife."
"What for?"
"Because thou wilt have to go into the villages, and if thou art taken in arms, thou wilt be shot directly."
"Shot?"
"Certainly. We do not belong to the regular troops; they do not take us prisoners; they shoot us. Thou wilt follow, then, the road to Schirmeck, stick in hand, and thy sons will accompany thee at a distance, in the underwood, within musket-range. If any marauders attack thee, they will come to thy rescue; if it is a column, or a handful of troops, they must allow thee to be taken."
"They are to let me be taken!" cried the old hunter, indignantly. "I should like to see that."
"Yes, Materne; it will be the best plan: for an unarmed man would be released, an armed shot. I do not need to tell thee not to sing out to the Germans that thou art come to spy upon them."
"Ah, ah! I comprehend. Yes, yes, that is not badly planned. As for me, I never quit my gun, Jean-Claude, but war is war. Hold! there is my carbine, and my powder-flask, and my knife. Who will lend me his blouse and his stick?"
Nickel Bentz handed him his blue blouse and his cap. They were surrounded by an admiring crowd.
After he had changed his clothes, notwithstanding his large gray mustaches, one would have taken the old hunter for a simple peasant from the high mountains.
His two sons, proud to be of this first expedition, looked to the priming of their muskets, and fixed to the end of the barrel a boar-spear, straight and long as a sword. They felt their hunting-knives, flung their bags upon their backs, and confident that all was in order, they glanced proudly round them.
"Ah," said Doctor Lorquin, laughing, "do not forget Master Jean-Claude"s advice. Be careful. One German more or less in a hundred thousand would not make much difference in our affairs; whereas if one or the other of you came back to us injured, you would be replaced with difficulty."
"Oh, fear nothing, doctor: we shall have our eyes open."
"My boys," replied Materne, haughtily, "are true hunters; they know how to wait the moment and profit by it. They will only fire when I call.
You can rest a.s.sured! and now, let us start; we must be back before night."
They departed.
"Good luck to you!" shouted Hullin, while they mounted the snow in order to avoid the breastworks.
They soon descended toward the narrow path, which turns sharply on the right of the mountain.
The partisans watched them. Their red frizzy hair, long muscular legs, their broad shoulders, and supple, quick movements,--all showed that in case of an encounter, five or six "kaiserlichs" would have little chance against such fine fellows.
In a quarter of an hour they had reached the pine-forest and disappeared.
Then Hullin quietly returned to the farm, talking to Nickel Bentz.
Doctor Lorquin walked behind, followed by Pluto, and all the others returned to their places round the bivouac fires.
CHAPTER XII
THE LANDLORD OF THE "PINEAPPLE"
Materne and his two boys walked for some time in silence. The weather had become fine; the pale winter sun shone over the brilliant snow without melting it, and the ground remained firm and hard.
In the distance, along the valley, stood out, with surprising clearness, the tops of the fir-trees, the reddish peaks of the rocks, the roofs of the hamlets, with their icy stalact.i.tes hanging from the eaves, their small sparkling windows, and sharp gables.
People were walking in the street of Grandfontaine. A troupe of young girls were standing round the washing-place; a few old men in cotton caps were smoking their pipes on the doorsteps of the little houses.
All this little world, lying in the depths of the blue expanse, came, and went, and lived, without a sound or sigh reaching the ears of the foresters.
The old hunter halted on the outskirts of the wood, and said to his sons: "I am going down to the village to see Dubreuil, the innkeeper of the "Pineapple.""
And he pointed with his stick to a long white building, the doors and windows of which were surrounded with a yellow bordering, a pine-branch being suspended to the wall as a signboard.
"You must await me here. If there is no danger, I will come out on to the doorstep and raise my hat; you can then come and take a gla.s.s of wine with me."