And this time he himself began to howl, whilst the wolves broke out afresh in their savage war-cry.
These dismal howls grew more and more loud and appalling, and the silence of the rocks around, some plunged in thick darkness, while others were fully revealed in the moon's bright rays, the solemn stillness of every tree and shrub beneath its weight of snow, the distant echoes replying with a mysterious voice to the mournful concert, all were calculated to strike terror into the breast of the old shepherd.
But by degrees his fears grew less, for Yégof and his dismal followers were getting farther and farther away from him, and gradually retreating towards Hazlach.
The raven, in his turn, unfurled his wings, and took his flight through the pale vault of heaven.
Robin heard for a long time after the howlings of the retreating wolves. They had completely ceased for more than twenty minutes, and not a sound broke the deep silence of the winter night, when the worthy man felt himself sufficiently recovered from his fright to come out of his hiding-place, and take his way back at full speed to the farm.
On arriving at Bois-de-Chênes, he found everybody up and stirring. They were going to kill an ox for the troops from the Donon. Hullin, Doctor Lorquin, and Louise were already gone with the men from the Sarre. Catherine Lefévre was busy, having her great waggon, with four horses, loaded with bread, meat, and brandy. People were coming and going in all directions, and all eagerly lending a helping hand in the preparations.
Robin had no opportunity of relating to anyone all that he had seen and heard. Besides, it seemed to himself so incredible that he really dared not open his mouth about it.
When he had retired to rest in his crib in the middle of the stable, he said to himself that no doubt Yégof had, during the winter, tamed a litter of young wolves, and that he babbled his folly to them in the same way that one talks sometimes to one's dog.
But, for all that, this strange encounter left a superstitious dread upon his mind, and even when he had arrived at a great age, the good old man never spoke of it without shuddering.
All was accomplished that Hullin had commanded: the defiles of the Zorne, and of the Sarre, were strongly defended; that of the Blanru, the extreme of the position, had been put in a state of defence by Jean-Claude himself and the three hundred men who formed his principal force.