"At present, nothing new, Master Jean-Claude; only on the Phalsbourg side one hears something like the rumbling of a storm. Labarbe says that it is cannon, for all night we have seen flashes through the forest of Hildehouse, and since the morning gray clouds have been spreading over the plain." "The town is attacked," said Hullin; "but what about the Lutzelstein side?" "One can hear nothing," replied Bentz. "Then the enemy is trying to turn the place. In any case, the allies are down there: there must be hosts of them in Alsace." And turning toward Materne, who was standing behind him, "We cannot remain any longer in uncertainty," said he; "thou, with thy two sons, go on a reconnoissance." The old hunter's face brightened. "So be it! I can stretch my legs a little," said he, "and see if I can't knock over one of those rascally Austrians or Cossacks." "Stop an instant, my old fellow! it is not now a question of knocking anybody over; we want to see what is going on. Frantz and Kasper will remain armed; but I know thee: thou must leave thy carbine here, thy powder-flask, and thy hunting-knife." "What for?" "Because thou wilt have to go into the villages, and if thou art taken in arms, thou wilt be shot directly." "Shot?" "Certainly. We do not belong to the regular troops; they do not take us prisoners; they shoot us. Thou wilt follow, then, the road to Schirmeck, stick in hand, and thy sons will accompany thee at a distance, in the underwood, within musket-range. If any marauders attack thee, they will come to thy rescue; if it is a column, or a handful of troops, they must allow thee to be taken." "They are to let me be taken!" cried the old hunter, indignantly. "I should like to see that." "Yes, Materne; it will be the best plan: for an unarmed man would be released, an armed shot. I do not need to tell thee not to sing out to the Germans that thou art come to spy upon them." "Ah, ah! I comprehend. Yes, yes, that is not badly planned. As for me, I never quit my gun, Jean-Claude, but war is war. Hold! there is my carbine, and my powder-flask, and my knife. Who will lend me his blouse and his stick?" Nickel Bentz handed him his blue blouse and his cap. They were surrounded by an admiring crowd. After he had changed his clothes, notwithstanding his large gray mustaches, one would have taken the old hunter for a simple peasant from the high mountains. His two sons, proud to be of this first expedition, looked to the priming of their muskets, and fixed to the end of the barrel a boar-spear, straight and long as a sword. They felt their hunting-knives, flung their bags upon their backs, and confident that all was in order, they glanced proudly round them.