"Come," cried Jack, "we've got to go now!"
"I shall stay!" she said; "I know my work is here!"
The German rifle-flames began to sparkle and flicker along the river-bank; a bullet rang out against the granite façade behind them.
"Come!" he cried, sharply, but she slipped from him and ran towards the house.
Drums were beating somewhere in the distant forest--shrill, treble drums--and from every hill-side the hollow, harsh Prussian trumpets spoke. Then came a sound, deep, menacing--a far cry: "Hourra! Preussen!"
"Why don't you cheer?" faltered Lorraine, mounting the terrace. The artillerymen looked at her in surprise. Jack caught her arm; she shook him off impatiently.
"Cheer!" she cried again. "Is France dumb?" She raised her hand.
"Vive la France!" shouted the artillerymen, catching her ardour. "Vive la Patrie! Vive Lorraine!"
Again the short, barking, Prussian cheer sounded, and again the artillerymen answered it, cheer on cheer, for France, for the Land, for the Province of Lorraine. Up in the windows of the Château the line soldiers were cheering, too; the engineers on the roof, stamping out the sparks and flames, swung their caps and echoed the shouts from terrace and window.
In the sudden silence that followed they caught the vibration of hundreds of hoofs--there came a rush, a shout: "Hourra! Preussen! Hourra! Hourra!" and into the lawn dashed the German cavalry, banging away with carbine and revolver. At the same moment, over the park walls swarmed the Bavarians in a forest of bayonets. The Château vomited flame from every window; the gatling, pulled back into the front door, roared out in a hundred streaks of fire. Jack dragged Lorraine to the first floor; she was terribly excited. Almost at once she knelt down and began to load rifles, passing them to Jack, who passed them to the soldiers at the windows. Once, when a whole window was torn in and the mattress on fire, she quenched the flames with water from her pitcher; and when the soldiers hesitated at the breach, she started herself, but Jack held her back and led the cheering, and piled more mattresses into the shattered window.
Below in the garden the Bavarians were running around the house, hammering with rifle-butts at the closed shutters, crouching, dodging from stable to garden, perfectly possessed to get into the house. Their officers bellowed orders and shook their sabres in the very teeth of the rifle blast; the cavalry capered and galloped, and flew from thicket to thicket.
Suddenly they all gave way; the garden and lawns were emptied save for the writhing wounded and motionless dead.
"Cheer!" gasped Lorraine; and the battered Château rang again with frenzied cries of triumph.