There was a moment's silence; the three huntsmen looked at each other again; the father had spread his hands upon the table, quite wide open, as if to urge his sons to be calm. Yet he himself had turned very pale. The innkeeper, who saw nothing of all this, continued--"You would, indeed, have much more to fear in the woods of the Baronies from those robbers of Dagsburg, La Sarre, and the Blanru, who have risen in revolt, and would like to renew the struggle of '93." "Are you quite sure of that?" asked Materne, making a violent effort over himself. "Am I sure of it? You need only look out of the window to answer that question; you will see them on the road from the Donon. They have surprised the Anabaptist, Pelsly; they have bound him to the foot of his bed; they are pillaging, stealing, pulling up the roads; but let them beware. A few days hence they will see some strange things. It is not with thousands of men that they will be attacked, but with tens of thousands, with _millions_ of thousands. They will be all hanged!" Materne rose. "It is time to be thinking of returning," said he, in a short, dry tone. "By two o'clock we must be back in the woods, where we can chatter away like magpies. Good day to you, Father Dubreuil." They went out hastily, no longer able to restrain themselves for rage. "Reflect well on what I have said to you," the innkeeper called out after them from his great arm-chair. Once outside, Materne said, while his lips trembled with fury--"If I had not left that man, I should have broken the bottle about his head." "And I," said Frantz, "could hardly help running my bayonet into his fat paunch." Kasper, with one foot on the step, seemed longing to return. As he clutched the handle of his hunting-knife, his countenance wore a terrible expression. But the old man took him by the arm, and drew him away, saying: "Come away; we shall find another time to repay him for all this. Advise me--me--Materne--to betray my country! Hullin did well to tell us to be on our guard: he was right." They then descended the street, casting such angry looks to the right and left as they passed, that people said inquiringly to each other--"Why, what can be the matter with them?" As they reached the end of the village, opposite the Old Cross, quite close to the Church, they stopped, and Materne, in a calmer tone, showing them the path that winds round by Phramond, through the woods, said to his sons: "You take that road. For my part, I shall follow this as far as Schirmeck. I shall not go too quickly, to allow you time to come up with me."