"To kill hares, is it not so?" observed the smuggler, winking. "No, to fight against the Germans and Russians." There was a moment's silence. "And thou wilt want much powder and lead?" "All that thou canst supply." "I can supply as much as three thousand francs' worth to-day," said the smuggler. "Then I'll take it." "And as much more in a week," added Marc, with the same calm manner and eager look. "I take that also." "You will take it!" cried Hexe-Baizel. "You will take it! I should think so! But who is to pay?" "Hold thy tongue!" said Marc, roughly, "Hullin takes it: and his word is enough for me." And holding out his large hand cordially: "Jean-Claude, here is my hand: the powder and lead are thine: but I must have my price, dost thou understand?" "Yes, Marc: only I intend paying thee at once." "He will pay, Hexe-Baizel, dost thou hear?" "Eh, I am not deaf, Baizel. Go and find a bottle of 'brimbelle-wasse' for us, so that we may warm our hearts a little. What Hullin tells me rejoices me. These rascally 'kaiserlichs' will not have the easy game against us that I thought. It appears that we are going to defend ourselves, and right well." "Yes, right well!" "And there are people who can pay?" "Catherine Lefèvre pays, and she it is who sends me," said Hullin. Then Marc Divès rose, and in a solemn tone, and pointing toward the precipice, exclaimed, "She is a woman indeed--a woman as grand as that rock down there, the Oxenstein, the greatest I have ever seen in my life. I drink to her health. Drink also, Jean-Claude." Hullin drank, then Hexe-Baizel. "Now everything has been said," continued Divès; "but listen, Hullin. Do not believe that it will be an easy matter to check the enemy: all the hunters, all the sawyers, all the wood-cutters and carriers on the mountains will not be too many. I come from the other side of the Rhine. They are so many--those Russians, Austrians, Bavarians, Prussians, Cossacks, and Hussars--they are so many, that the earth is black with them. The villages cannot hold them: they camp on the plains, in the valleys, on the hills, in the towns, in the open air--they are to be found everywhere." At that moment a shrill cry was heard. "It is a buzzard chasing something," said Marc, stopping. But just then a shadow came over the rock. A cloud of chaffinches cleared the abyss, and hundreds of buzzards and hawks fought above them in their rapid flight, uttering loud screams to terrify their prey, while the mass seemed stationary, so dense was it. The regular movement of these thousands of wings produced, in the silence, a sound like that of dead leaves blown in the wind. "That is the departure of the chaffinches of the Ardennes," said Hullin.