"Yes, Catherine; we may any day expect to see the enemy in our mountains." "I feared it--I was sure of it--but go on, Jean-Claude." Hullin, in a low voice, proceeded to relate all he had seen and heard; he told of the works around the city, the proclamation of the state of siege, the wagons loaded with wounded on the Place d'Armes, and his meeting with the old sergeant. From time to time he paused, and the old lady half-closed her eyes, as if graving his words upon her memory, and when Hullin spoke of the wounded she gasped: "But Gaspard has escaped?" At the end of the sabot-maker's sorrowful story there was a long pause. How many bitter thoughts were burning in the minds of both! At last Catherine broke the silence: "You see, Jean-Claude," said she, "Yegof was right." "He was right," replied Jean-Claude, "but what does that prove? It would, indeed, be astonishing if a fool--wandering, as he does, everywhere, from village to village--in Alsace, in Lorraine--saw nothing, heard nothing; and if he should not occasionally utter a truth in the midst of his nonsense. Everything is mingled in his head, and you imagine you understand what he does not understand himself. But enough of the fool, Catherine. The Austrians are coming, and the question is whether we shall let them pass quietly through our mountains, or defend ourselves like mountaineers." "Defend ourselves!" cried the old woman, her pale cheeks flushing. "Think you we have lost the courage of our fathers? Did not the blood of their men, women, and children flow like water, and no one think of yielding?" "Then you are for defence, Catherine?" "Ay! while a drop of blood remains in my body. Let them come. The old woman will be in their path." Her long, gray hair in her excitement seemed to quiver upon her head; her cheeks trembled and glowed, and her eyes flashed fire. She seemed even full of a fierce beauty--of a beauty like that of Margareth of whom Yegof spoke. Hullin stretched his hand to her in silence. {164} "I knew you, Catherine," said he with enthusiasm; "I knew your true heart. But we must look calmly at what is before us. We shall fight, but how? Where are our munitions?" "Everywhere! axes, scythes, pitchforks--" "Yes, yes; but muskets and bullets are the best. Muskets we have; every mountaineer's cottage has one hanging over the door; but where is our powder? where are our bullets?" The old woman became suddenly calm; she pushed back her hair beneath her cap, and looked around thoughtfully. "Yes," she replied; "we lack powder and ball, it is true, but we shall have them. Marc-Dives the smuggler has plenty. You will see him for me to-morrow, and tell him that Catherine Lefevre will buy all that he has, and pay for it too; yes, though it cost her house, lands, and cattle--all she possesses. Do you understand, Hullin?" "I do. This is splendid, Catherine!"