"Are you satisfied, Catherine? There! our success is certain. But what is the matter? You do not smile." "Yes, Jean-Claude, all goes well. I am satisfied. But look down at the road. What a butchery!" "It is only what happens in war," replied Hullin, gravely. "Could we not go and help that little fellow down there, who watches us with his large blue eyes? He makes me feel so sad. Or that tall, dark man, who is binding his leg with his handkerchief?" "Impossible, Catherine. I am very sorry. We should have to cut steps in the ice to get down, and the Germans, who will be back in an hour or two, would take advantage of them. Let us go. The victory must be announced in all the villages--to Labarbe, Jérome, and Piorette. Ho! Simon, Niklo, Marchal, come here. You will have to set out immediately, and carry the great tidings to our comrades. Materne, keep thy eyes open, and warn me at the slightest movement." They approached the farm, and, as he passed, Jean-Claude took a look at the reserve, Marc Divès being on horseback surrounded by his men. The smuggler complained bitterly of being left with nothing to do, as if his honor were tarnished thereby. "Bah!" said Hullin, "so much the better! Besides, thou keepest guard over our right. Look at that flat ground down there. If we are attacked from that point, thou wilt have to march!" Divès made no answer; he looked both sad and indignant, nor did his stalwart smugglers, wrapped in their cloaks, their long swords hanging by their sides, seem at all in a better humor; one might have said that they were meditating some revenge. Hullin, not succeeding in consoling them, entered the farm-house. Doctor Lorquin was extracting the ball from Baumgarten's wound, who was making terrible cries. Pelsly, on the doorstep, was trembling all over. Jean-Claude asked him for paper and ink, in order to transmit his orders through the mountain; but the poor anabaptist could hardly give them to him, so great was his trouble. However, he succeeded at last, and the messengers departed, proud of being charged to announce the first battle and victory. A few mountaineers were in the large room, warming themselves at the oven and talking animatedly. Daniel Spitz had already undergone amputation of his two fingers, and sat behind the stove with his hand bound up. Those who had been posted behind the abatis before daybreak, not having breakfasted, were now eating a crust of bread and drinking a glass of wine, shouting, gesticulating, and making great bravado meanwhile. Then they went out, looked at the intrenchments, came back to warm themselves again, and laughed fit to split their sides when they spoke of Riffi, and his wails and cries on horseback. It was eleven o'clock. These incomings and outgoings lasted till twelve, when Marc Divès suddenly came into the room, calling out:--"Hullin! Where is Hullin?" "Here I am." "Well, then, come!"