ON THE FALKENSTEIN
At the end of the valley of Bouleaux, two gun-shots from the village of
Charmes, to the left, the little troop began slowly to ascend the path
to the old "burg." Hullin, remembering how he had taken the same road
when he went to buy powder of Marc Dives, could not help feeling very
sad. Then, notwithstanding his journey to Phalsbourg, the spectacle of
the wounded from Leipzig and Hanau, and the account given by the old
sergeant, he did not despair or doubt of the success of the defence.
Now all was lost; the enemy were descending into Lorraine, and the
mountaineers were retreating. Marc Dives rode by the side of the wall
in the snow; his horse, apparently accustomed to this journey, neighed
loudly. The smuggler turned from time to time to look back on the
plateau of Bois-de-Chenes. Suddenly he exclaimed, "Look! here come the
Cossacks!"
They all halted to look. They were already high up on the mountain,
above the village and farm of Bois-de-Chenes. The morning mists were
giving way to the gray light of the winter's day, and, on the hill-side
could be distinguished the forms of several Cossacks, with their heads
raised, and pistols pointed, stealthily approaching the old farm-house.
They were scattered after the manner of sharpshooters, as if they
feared a surprise. A few minutes later more appeared, ascending the
valley of Houx, then still more, all in the same attitude, upright in
their stirrups, in order to see as far as possible. The first, having
passed by the farm and observing nothing threatening, waved their
lances and returned half way back. Whereupon the others galloped up at
full speed like a flock of crows when they have sighted their prey. In
a few minutes the farm was surrounded and the door opened. In another
moment the windows were smashed, and the furniture, mattresses, and
linen, thrown outside. Catherine calmly looked on at the pillage. She
said nothing for some time; but, on seeing Yegof, whom she had not
perceived before, strike Duchene with the butt-end of his lance, and
push him out of the farm, she could not restrain a cry of indignation.
"The wretch! Could any one be cowardly enough to strike a poor old man
unable to defend himself. Ah! brigand, if I only held thee!"
"Come along, Catherine," said Jean-Claude; "that's enough; what is the
use of gazing at such a spectacle any longer?"
"You are right," said the old mistress; "let us go on, or I shall be
tempted to go back and revenge myself."
On approaching the red rocks, incrusted with large white and black
pebbles, overhanging the precipice like the arches of an immense
cathedral, Louise and Catherine stopped in ecstasy. The magnificent
view of the streams of Lorraine, and the blue ribbon of the Rhine to
their right, with the distant woods and valleys, filled them with joy,
and the old dame said piously, "Jean-Claude, He who created these
rocks, and formed these valleys, forests, heaths, and mosses, He will
render to us the justice we merit."
As they were gazing thus on the rugged precipices, Marc led his horse
into a cavern close by, and, returning, began to climb up before them,
saying, "Take care, or you may slip!"
At the same time he pointed to the blue precipice on their right, with
pine-trees at the bottom. Everybody then relapsed into silence till
the terrace was reached, where the arch commenced. There they breathed
more freely. In the middle of the passage were the smugglers Brenn,
Pfeifer, and Joubac, with their long gray mantles and black hats,
sitting round a fire. Marc Dives said to them, "Here we are! The
'kaiserlichs' are masters. Zimmer was killed last night. Is
Hexe-Baizel up there?"
"Yes," replied Brenn; "she is making cartridges."
"They may be of use," said Marc. "Keep your eyes open, and if any come
up fire on them."
The Maternes halted at the corner of the rock; and these three sturdy
men, with their powerful muscular limbs, their hats pushed back, and
carbines on their shoulders, offered a curious spectacle in the blue
mists of the abyss. Old Materne was pointing with outstretched hand to
a small white speck in the distance, almost hidden in the midst of the
pines. "Do you recognize that, my boys?" said he; and they all three
peered through their half-closed eyes.
"It is our house," replied Kasper.
"Poor Margredel!" rejoined the old hunter, after a short pause; "how
uneasy she must have been these last eight days? What prayers does she
not offer up for us to Saint-Odile?"
At that moment Marc Dives, who was walking on in front, uttered an
exclamation of surprise.
"Mother Lefevre," said he, stopping short, "the Cossacks are burning
your farm."
Catherine received the tidings very calmly, and advanced to the edge of
the terrace, Louise and Jean-Claude following. At the bottom of the
abyss was a great white cloud, through which could be seen a bright
spark, as it were, on the side of Bois-de-Chenes--that was all; but at
intervals, when the wind blew strong, the flames shot up, the two high
black gables, the hay-loft, the small stables burned brightly, then all
disappeared once more.
"It is nearly finished," said Hullin, in a low voice.
"Yes," replied Catherine; "there are the labor and trouble of forty
years vanishing in smoke; but they cannot burn my good land, nor the
great meadow of Eichmath. We will begin our work over again. Gaspard
and Louise will repair it all. I regret nothing I have done."
A quarter of an hour later thousands of sparks arose, and the building
crumbled to the ground. The black gables alone remained standing.
They continued to ascend the path. As they were ascending the higher
terrace, they heard the sharp voice of Hexe-Baizel.
"Is it thou, Catherine?" she cried. "Ah, I never thought thou wouldst
have come to see me in my wretched hole."
Baizel and Catherine Lefevre had been at school together in former
days, therefore they used the third person when speaking.
"Nor I neither," replied the old farm-mistress. "All the same,
Baizel--one is glad to find in misfortune an old companion of one's
childhood."
Baizel seemed touched by her words.
"All that is here, Catherine, is thine," she exclaimed; "everything!"
She pointed to her miserable stool, the furze broom, and the five or
six fagots on the hearth. Catherine looked on a few moments in
silence, and then said: "It is not grand, but it is solid; at least,
they will not be able to burn down thy house."
"No, they will not burn it," said Hexe-Baizel, laughing; "they would
need all the wood of the province of Dabo even to warm it a little.
Ha! ha! ha!"
After so many fatigues, the partisans stood in need of repose. They
all placed their guns against the wall, and lay down on the ground to
sleep, Marc Dives having opened the second cavern to them, where they
at least were sheltered. Marc then went out with Hullin to examine
their position.