then
concluded to look at him.

"Is this village Leigoutte?" he asked. "And is that your inn?" And the
soldier pointed to the inn.

"What business is that of yours?" asked Simon, who by this time had
become excessively angry.

"Give my men something to drink."

Simon clenched his hands as he replied:

"I never give anything to the enemies of my country!"

The Cossacks understood him and uttered a groan.

"We shall take it by force, then!" said the officer, spurring his horse
toward Simon, but the latter pulled out a pistol and pointed it at the
Austrian.

"One step further!" he shouted, "and I will blow out your brains!"

The Austrian pulled up his steed, and saying a few words to his men,
they turned their horses and departed.

"We shall see you again!" shouted the Austrian, over his shoulder.

The peasants uttered a shout of joy, but Simon was very thoughtful.

"Why," said he, to himself, "should there be a reconnoissance expressly
for this village?"

The men now crowded around Simon.

"You frightened them well!" they said. "How ugly they are!" They
laughed, and seemed to think all danger was past.

Simon and Michel exchanged a look, then the former raised his hand to
command silence.

"My friends," he said, "they will return, and bring many more with them.
Those among you who are not afraid to fight, may remain with me. But we
must see at once about a place of safety for the women and children. It
will be easy for twenty or thirty of us to keep these invaders from
coming to this point again, for we know each mountain path. We have
arms, for I long since concealed one hundred guns in my house, and
these mountains--the ramparts of France, shall become inaccessible
citadels. The enemy will approach in a compact column; we must send out
scouts who will keep us informed. It is too late to-day for the attack
to take place. Two of you will go to the neighboring villages and give
the alarm. We will meet to-morrow at the Iron Cross. And remember,
children, that in '92, as to-day, the invaders threatened France, and
your fathers drove them out. May the children of those men be worthy of
them!"

"But about the women and children?" asked Michel.

"They must be hidden in the farm-houses up the mountains. The wounded
are protected by the code of war. Courage, then, and shout with me Vive
la France!"

These words aroused immense enthusiasm for a few minutes.

Simon felt a hand on his; it was Francoise, wi