The firing was evidently coming nearer and nearer. "What?" exclaimed Jean-Claude, almost beside himself, and wildly tossing up his arms; "do you think I have time to explain things to you?" The farm-mistress saw that there was nothing to do but obey orders. She took her hood, and descended the staircase with Louise. By the flickering light of the shots, Catherine saw Materne, bare-necked, and his son, Kasper, firing from the entrance of the valley on to the barricades, while ten others behind them kept loading and handing the guns to them, so that they had nothing to do but to take aim and fire. All this motley group, busily engaged in loading, shouldering, and firing, gave a terrible aspect to the scene. Three or four dead bodies, propped up against the old decayed wall, added to the horror of the combat; the smoke was beginning to make its way rapidly into the dwelling. When they had reached the foot of the staircase, Hullin exclaimed: "Here they are, thanks be to God!" And all the brave fellows about there, looking up and seeing them, called out, "Courage! Mother Lefévre!" Then the poor old dame, her frame quite shattered by so many emotions, began to cry. She leaned on the shoulder of Jean-Claude; but the latter passed his strong arm round her, and carried her off like a feather, running all along the wall to the right. Louise followed, crying and sobbing. Out of doors nothing was to be heard but the whizzing of bullets through the air, heavy thuds against the wall; bricks and mortar were giving way, and tiles flying about in all directions, and exactly opposite, in the vicinity of the barricades, three hundred paces off, were to be seen the white uniforms, in line, lit up by their own fire in the thick darkness of night, and then to their left, on the other side of the ravine of the Minières, the mountaineers, who were taking them in the flank. Hullin disappeared at the turning by the farm; there all was plunged in darkness. It was as much as you could do to catch a glimpse of Doctor Lorquin on horseback in front of a sleigh, a long cavalry sword in his hand, two holster-pistols in his belt, and Frantz Materne, with a dozen of men, with grounded arms, trembling with rage. Hullin placed Catherine in the sledge, on a truss of straw, and then Louise beside her. "There you are!" exclaimed the doctor, "and it's a very lucky thing!" And Frantz Materne added: "If it had not been for you, Dame Lefévre, you may easily believe that not one of us would quit this spot to-night; but when you are in the case, there is nothing to say." "No," cried the others; "there is nothing to say." At the same moment, a great tall, long-backed fellow, with legs as long as a heron's, came from behind the wall, running at full speed, and shouting: "The enemy! Fly! save yourselves!" Hullin turned as pale as death. "It is the great grinder of the Harberg," said he, gnashing his teeth. Frantz said not a word; he shouldered his carbine, took aim, and fired.