Dame Lefévre admired the courage and good fortune of her son in the midst of these events, the memory of which will be preserved from generation to generation. But when Lagarmitte, grave and solemn, in his long gray gaberdine, his large black felt hat upon his head, his wooden horn on his shoulder, crossed the kitchen, and, standing in the doorway, announced, "The men from the Sarre are coming!" then all this excitement disappeared, and everyone rose, thinking only of the terrible struggle which was shortly going to begin on the mountain. Louise threw her arms round Gaspard's neck, exclaiming: "Gaspard, do not leave us! Stay with us!" He turned very pale. "I am a soldier," said he; "my name is Gaspard Lefévre; I love thee, Louise, a thousand times better than my own life, but a Lefévre knows nothing but his duty!" And he unclasped her arms from about his neck. Then Louise sank, half-fainting, down, and, with her head lying on the table, began to groan aloud. Gaspard rose. Hullin placed himself between them, and pressing his hands warmly, while his own strong frame shook with emotion, "Right, my lad!" said he; "spoken like a man, and a brave one, too." His mother approached more calmly to buckle his knapsack on to his shoulders. She performed that task with knit brows, her lips firmly compressed under her long hooked nose, without uttering a sigh; but two big tears slowly coursed each other down the furrows in her cheeks. And when she had finished, turning round with her sleeve to her eyes, she said, "There; go, go, my child, thy mother blesses thee. If war seizes thee for its prey, still thou wilt not be dead to us. See, Gaspard, there is thy place; there, between Louise and me; thou wilt ever be there! This poor child is not yet old enough to know that to live is but to suffer." Everyone went out. Louise, left alone, began to weep and groan afresh. A few moments after, as she heard the butt end of his gun resounding on the flagstones and the outer door opening, she rushed out after him, shrieking in heartrending tones, "Gaspard! Gaspard! see, I will be firm; I will not cry any more; I do not want to keep you back--oh, no, but do not leave me in anger; have pity on me!" "Anger! angry with you, my darling! Oh, no, no," he replied. "But to see you so miserable breaks my heart. Ah! if you had but a little firmness now, I should be happy." "Well, then, I have; kiss me. See, I am no longer the same. I will try to be like our good mother Lefévre." They exchanged their parting embrace with more calmness. Hullin stood by, holding the gun; Catherine waved her hand, as much as to say, "Go, go--enough." And he, suddenly seizing his weapon, departed, with a firm step, and without once turning his head. On the other side, the men of the Sarre, with their pickaxes and hatchets, were climbing in procession the steep and rugged ascent of the Valtin.