The few fires scattered round about the farm, sending their puffs of dense smoke up to the sky, alone indicated the position of the camp. The mountaineers seated round the fires over which their food was cooking, their broad-brimmed hats pushed back on their heads, their guns slung on their shoulders, were quite sad and desponding: for three days they had been on the look-out. In one of these groups, with crossed legs, rounded back, and pipe in mouth, were old Materne and his two sons. From time to time Louise would appear at the door of the farm, then re-enter very quickly and set to work again. A large cock, scratching on the dunghill, was crowing with a hoarse voice; two or three fowls were strutting up and down among the bushes. All this was pleasant to behold; but what chiefly rejoiced the volunteers was to contemplate the magnificent sides of bacon, of a beautiful red and white, so temptingly blended, hanging before the fire on spits of green wood, and yielding their luscious fat drop by drop on the embers, and to go and fill their drinking-cups at a little barrel of brandy placed on Catherine Lefévre's cart. About eight o'clock in the morning, a man suddenly made his appearance between the Great and Little Donon; the sentinels immediately observed him; he descended the pathway, waving his hat. In a few minutes they recognised Nickel Bentz, the old forest ranger of the Houpe. The whole camp was astir; some one ran to inform Hullin, who had been sleeping for an hour in the homestead on a large mattrass, side by side with Doctor Lorquin and his dog Pluto. They all three came out, accompanied by the old shepherd, Lagarmitte, whom they had named the trumpeter, and the Anabaptist Pelsly, a grave and sedate man, his arms plunged to the elbows in his tunic of hodden grey with brass hooks, a broad fringe of beard encircling his massive jaws, and the tassel of his cotton cap hanging halfway down his back. Jean-Claude appeared delighted. "Well, Nickel, what's going on down below there?" he exclaimed. "So far nothing new Master Jean-Claude; only on the Phalsbourg side there is a rumbling like a storm. Labarbe says it is cannon, for all night long flashes like lightning were seen passing over the forest of Hilde-house, and since this morning grey clouds have hung over the plain." "The town is attacked," said Hullin; "but what news from Lutzelstein?" "Nothing," replied Bentz. "Then that is because the enemy will attempt to turn the place. In any case, the Allies are in the neighbourhood. There must be a terrible number of them in Alsace." Then turning towards Materne, who was standing behind, "We cannot remain any longer in uncertainty," said he; "you must depart with your two sons to reconnoitre." The old huntsman's countenance brightened. "All right! I shall be able then to stretch my legs a little," said he, "and try to bring down one of those Cossacks."