The old keeper, who could run like a fox, had come and warned the town.  The guns had been got ready, but the enemy had not shown themselves.

Long-legs’ dwelling served as an outpost in the Aveline forest.  Twice a week the old man went to the town for provisions and brought the citizens news of the outlying district.

On this particular day he had gone to announce the fact that a small detachment of German infantry had halted at his house the day before, about two o’clock in the afternoon, and had left again almost immediately.  The noncommissioned officer in charge spoke French.

When the old man set out like this he took with him his dogs—­two powerful animals with the jaws of lions-as a safeguard against the wolves, which were beginning to get fierce, and he left directions with the two women to barricade themselves securely within their dwelling as soon as night fell.

The younger feared nothing, but her mother was always apprehensive, and repeated continually: 

“We’ll come to grief one of these days.  You see if we don’t!”

This evening she was, if possible, more nervous than ever.

“Do you know what time your father will be back?” she asked.

“Oh, not before eleven, for certain.  When he dines with the commandant he’s always late.”

And Berthine was hanging her pot over the fire to warm the soup when she suddenly stood still, listening attentively to a sound that had reached her through the chimney.

“There are people walking in the wood,” she said; “seven or eight men at least.”

The terrified old woman stopped her spinning wheel, and gasped: 

“Oh, my God!  And your father not here!”

She had scarcely finished speaking when a succession of violent blows shook the door.

As the woman made no reply, a loud, guttural voice shouted: 

“Open the door!”

After a brief silence the same voice repeated: 

“Open the door or I’ll break it down!”

Berthine took the heavy revolver from its hook, slipped it into the pocket of her skirt, and, putting her ear to the door, asked: 

“Who are you?” demanded the young woman.  “What do you want?”.

“The detachment that came here the other day,” replied the voice.

“My men and I have lost our way in the forest since morning.  Open the door or I’ll break it down!”

The forester’s daughter had no choice; she shot back the heavy bolts, threw open the ponderous shutter, and perceived in the wan light of the snow six men, six Prussian soldiers, the same who had visited the house the day before.

“What are you doing here at this time of night?” she asked dauntlessly.

“I lost my bearings,” replied the officer; “lost them completely.  Then I recognized this house.  I’ve eaten nothing since morning, nor my men either.”

“But I’m quite alone with my mother this evening,” said Berthine.