Poor Riffi! He alone did not partake of the triumph, and his comrades laughed at his misfortune, as though he had been but a "kaiserlich." Such is the character of men; so long as they are happy themselves, the misery of others grieves them but little. CHAPTER XV THE BATTLE RENEWED The mountaineers were almost beside themselves with enthusiasm: they lifted their hands and bepraised one another, as if they were the cream of mankind. Catherine, Louise, Doctor Lorquin and all the others came out of the farm, cheering and congratulating each other, gazing at the marks of the bullets and at the bank blackened with powder; then at Joseph Larnette stretched in his hole, having his head smashed; at Baumgarten, who, with his arm hanging down, walked in great pallor toward the ambulance; and then at Daniel Spitz, who, in spite of his sabre-cut, wanted to stay and fight; but the doctor would not hear of it, and forced him to enter the farm. Louise came up with the little cart, and poured out brandy for the combatants; while Catherine Lefèvre, standing at the edge of the sloping bank, watched the dead and wounded scattered over the road, and led up to by long lines of blood. There were both young and old among them, with faces white as wax, wide-opened eyes, and outstretched arms. Some few tried to raise themselves, but no sooner had they done so than they fell back again; others looked up as though they were afraid of receiving some more bullets, and dragged themselves along the bank in order to get under shelter. Many of them seemed resigned to their fate, and were looking for a place to die, or else watching their retreating regiment on its way to Framont--that regiment with which they had quitted their homes, with which they had made a long campaign, and which was now abandoning them! "It will see old Germany again!" they thought. "And when some one asks the captain or the sergeant, 'Did you know such a one--Hans, Kasper, Nickel, of the 1st or of the 2d company?' they will reply, 'Ah! I think so. Had he not a scar on the ear, or on the cheek? fair or dark hair? five feet six in height? Yes, I know him. He was buried in France, near a little village whose name I do not remember. Some mountaineers killed him the same day big Major Yéri-Peter was killed. He was a fine fellow!' And then it is, 'Good-day to you.'" Perhaps, too, there were some of them who dreamed of their mother, or of a pretty girl left behind them, Gretchen or Lotchen, who had given, them a ribbon, and shed hot tears when they left: "I will await thy return, Kasper. I will only marry thee! Yes, yes, thou wilt have to wait long!" It was not pleasant to think of. Madame Lefèvre, seeing this, thought of Gaspard. Hullin, who came up with Lagarmitte, cried out in a joyous tone, "Well, my boys, you have been under fire. Bravo! everything goes well. The Germans will have no occasion to boast of this day." Then he embraced Louise, and hurried up to Catherine.