And then? Repuin cast a glance at the stiffened corpse of the Baron de Nouart, which had been brought into the dining-hall and lay there on the floor in a corner half covered with a piece of carpet. He thought of his last conversation with him, of how he had been warned by him not to attempt an attack upon a foe so much the stronger. "Count Schlichting knows no mercy!" had been Sorr's words. Then the Count had received them with a sneer; now, as he thought of the near future, they filled him with horror. The colonel had already heard of the struggle in Assais; he was even now at the head of his regiment on the way hither from Nontron to rescue and to avenge. Repuin was innately brave; he could laugh danger and death to scorn in the heat of battle, but the idea of being taken prisoner and shot in cold blood by the hated Germans drove the blood from his cheek. He turned to the young officer at his side and confided his fears to him, commissioning him to make one more attempt with a few experienced soldiers to assemble the men in some degree of order. The officer promised to do his best, but his efforts were fruitless until it was too late. The franctireurs, scattered through the village, refused to obey the bugle-call; they were engaged in a wild orgie with some of the country-people. Wine flowed in streams, and there were loud shouts of "Vive la France! vive la victoire!" that never ceased until a breathless messenger spread the news through the village with the speed of lightning that a German host was marching upon Assais along the roads from Nontron and Chalus, and that it would be upon them in less than half an hour. This intelligence sobered in an instant those drunk with wine and conquest. Now they hurried to obey the bugle-call, but it was too late! An orderly retreat was no longer possible. This Repuin perceived, as from the castle he marked the close ranks of the approaching enemy, who, thanks to the mad neglect and want of discipline of the franctireurs, was so near that he would reach the village before the scattered Frenchmen could assemble together. Were not fugitives already scouring the fields upon the horses of the slain Uhlans? Should a panic ensue, rescue would be impossible; there might be something, an honorable death at least, gained from a stubborn defence of both castle and village. The bitter conflict lasted several hours; the Frenchmen, so lately taken from the plough and work-bench, the franctireurs, so despised by the Germans, defended every house in the village, and last of all the castle itself, with a courage and heroism worthy of better success.