"We are not only right, but it is our duty to defend ourselves," said the doctor. "Our fathers cleared these woods and cultivated them: they are our legitimate inheritance." "No doubt," returned the anabaptist, sententiously; "but it is written, 'Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not shed thy brother's blood!'" Catherine Lefèvre, who was in the act of cutting a slice of ham, evidently felt impatient at this conversation, and, turning round sharply, replied to him: "If that were true, and your religion were right, the Germans, Russians, and all these red men might take the clothes off our backs. 'Tis fine, that religion of yours; yes, fine, for it gives the rogues such an advantage! It helps them to pillage people of substance. I am sure the allies would wish for us no better religion than yours. Unfortunately, everybody does not care to live like sheep. As for me, Pelsly--and I say it without wishing to annoy you--I consider it folly to grow rich for the benefit of others. But, after all, you are honest folks; one cannot be angry with you: you have been brought up from father to son in the same notions: what the grandfather thought, the grandson thinks also. But we will defend you in spite of yourselves; and afterward we will let you tell us of the peace eternal. I am fond of discourses on peace, when I have nothing else to do, and when I am thinking after dinner: then it rejoices my heart." After having said this, she turned round and went on carving her ham. Pelsly opened his mouth and eyes, and Doctor Lorquin burst out laughing. Just then the door opened, and one of the sentries who had been stationed on the edge of the plateau, cried out, "Master Jean-Claude, come and see. I believe they are mounting the hill." "It is well, Simon; I am coming," said Hullin, rising. "Louise, kiss me. Have courage, my child. Do not fear; all will go well." He pressed her to his breast, her eyes swollen with tears. She seemed more dead than alive. "Above all," said the worthy man, addressing Catherine, "let no one go outside or near the windows." Then he darted out into the road. All those present turned pale. When Master Jean-Claude had reached the verge of the hill, and cast his eyes over Grandfontaine and Framont, three thousand mètres below, the following sight presented itself to his eyes: The Germans, who had arrived the evening before, a few hours after the Cossacks, and had passed the night (about five or six thousand of them) in the barns, stables, and sheds, were moving about like ants. They appeared on all sides in bodies of ten, fifteen, and twenty, buckling their knapsacks and swords, and fixing their bayonets. Besides these, the cavalry--the Uhlans, Cossacks, Hussars--in green, blue, and gray uniforms striped with red and yellow--with their glazed linen and sheepskin caps, colbacks, and helmets--were saddling their horses and hastily rolling up their long cloaks.