"Yes; they must be just returning from throwing up breastworks behind the pine-wood, to protect the cannon," added Frantz. They listened again; the footsteps came nearer. "Thou must be very much bothered with these three prisoners," said Hullin, roughly. "Since thou returnest to the Falkenstein to-night to get ammunition, what prevents thee from taking them away?" "Where are they to be put?" "Why, in the communal prison of Abreschwiller, to be sure. We cannot keep them here." "All right, I understand, Jean-Claude. And if they try to escape on the way, I am to use my sword?" "Just so." By this time they had reached the door, and Hullin, perceiving Materne, could not suppress a shout of enthusiasm: "Ah! Is it thou, old fellow? I have been searching for thee an hour. Where the devil wert thou?" "We have been carrying poor Rochart to the ambulance, Jean-Claude." "Ah! it is a sad affair, isn't it?" "Yes; it is sad." There was a moment's pause, and the satisfaction of the worthy man again became visible. "It is not at all lively," said he; "but what is to be done when one goes to the war? You are not hurt any of you?" "No; we are all three safe and sound." "So much the better. Those who are left can boast of being lucky." "True," cried Marc Divès, laughing. "At one time I thought Materne was going to give way. Without those cannon-balls at the finish, things would have gone badly." Materne colored, and glanced sideways at the smuggler. "Perhaps so," said he, dryly; "but without the cannon-balls at the beginning, we should not have needed those at the end. Old Rochart, and fifty other brave men, would still have had their arms and legs, and our victory would not have been clouded." "Bah!" interrupted Hullin, anticipating a dispute between the two brave fellows, neither of whom was remarkable for his conciliatory disposition. "Leave that alone. Every one has done his duty; and that is the chief thing." Then, addressing Materne: "I have just sent a flag of truce to Framont, to bid the Germans carry away their wounded. In an hour, I dare say, they will be here. Our sentries must be warned to let them approach if they come without arms and with torches. If in any other way, let them be received with a volley." "I will go at once," answered the old hunter. "Materne, thou wilt afterward sup at the farm with thy boys." "Agreed, Jean-Claude." And he went off. Hullin then bade Frantz and Kasper light great bivouac fires; Marc was at once to feed his horses, so that he might go without delay to procure ammunition. Seeing them hurrying away, Hullin turned into the farm. CHAPTER XVII ROUND THE FESTIVE BOARD At the end of the dark alley was the yard of the farm, into which one descended by five or six well-worn steps. On the left were the granary and the wine-press; to the right the stables and pigeon-cot, the gables of which stood out black on the dark cloudy sky; and in front of the door was the laundry.