How did the Cossacks ever discover that poor little hut sheltered among the rocks?

Simon's wife and children reached this place, and said to old LasvÈne:

"Simon is fighting for France. Will you give us shelter?"

LasvÈne took them in with a simple "yes." They were all very weary. Jacques had done all in his power to protect his little sister, who was not in the least frightened, only curious.

The old man shook out some fresh straw, gave them each a great bowl of smoking soup, and said:

"Everything here is yours, eat and sleep."

And when all was quiet the old man brought out two guns, which he had kept in spite of Napoleon's edict. He sat down by the fire, and began to clean them.

Suddenly, he felt a hand—a small one—laid on his arm, and a voice said,

"What are you doing with your guns? Do you think there is any danger here?"

The old man hesitated for a reply, and the boy said,

"Show me how to manage them, it may be useful."

LasvÈne hesitated a moment, but finally decided to teach little Jacques how to fire these long guns. The boy quickly grasped the movement. When he bit his first cartridge he made a wry face. When one is inexperienced the powder gets between the teeth.

"Once more," he said, "I am not quite sure yet."

When the clock struck three, Jacques could load the gun like any old grenadier, but he had not been permitted to fire it.

"Your mother is asleep and little sister too," the old man said.

Jacques did not persist.

"Now lie down, my boy, and get a little sleep."

At six o'clock in the morning—it was at that hour that Simon died—a pistol shot scattered the straw on the roof of the hut.

LasvÈne rushed to the door and half opening it, cried:

"The Cossacks!"

He knew them well, for he had been in the campaign of 1805.

Jacques started to his feet, and FranÇoise, pale as death, clutched her little girl to her breast.

"They are only going by," said LasvÈne. "They know there is nothing to pillage here."

LasvÈne believed himself and his guests under his roof to be safe. He, therefore, threw open the door wide.

He saw about fifty Cossacks.

"I am not making any defence," he said, "what do you want?"

The old soldier said this reluctantly, for the blood leaped hot in his veins, but he had a woman and two children there.

The Cossacks sat still on their horses, and seemed to be waiting. For what were they waiting?

Suddenly and most incomprehensibly, from behind old LasvÈne came two shots. Two Cossacks fell. Who had fired? He ran back into the hut. Jacques stood near the chimney, looking at the guns which he had not fired. Who had?

These shots were answered by a furious clamor. A volley was fired into the cottage. LasvÈne ran to the other side of the hut, and saw two men running away. It was these men who fired. Both were dressed like gipsies, but one was Cyprien, the lacquey of Monsieur de Talizac.

"We are lost!" thought LasvÈne.

Instantly he pulled across the door his old oaken chest, and piled chairs and tables upon it, the bed, everything that was movable in the hut. Then, snatching one gun, he said:

"We must fight. Take the other!"

The Cossacks were amazed, but they fired through the window.

"Now!" cried LasvÈne, and an officer fell. Jacques handed him the other gun, and loaded the first.

Again a Cossack fell.

FranÇoise rushed to the old man's side.

"Save the children!" she cried.

"At the peril of your life?" he asked.

"Yes," was the reply of the devoted mother.

"Then take the other gun!"

FranÇoise obeyed.

"Come!" said the old man to Jacques.

"No," answered the boy, "they will kill mamma!"

"For Simon's sake!" cried FranÇoise.

Then LasvÈne stooped to the ground, and with the aid of an iron ring lifted a trap door.

"Down with you!" said the old man. "It is a subterranean passage, and leads to the Fongereues estate. You have a league to go. God guard you!"

Another deafening discharge of musketry. The mother sank on her knees.

"Save Francinette!" she moaned.

"They have killed my mother!" sobbed the boy.

"Go!" cried LasvÈne, "they are coming in!"

He seized the little girl and put her in her brother's arms, and thrusting a pistol into the hands of the little fellow, he pushed him toward the trap door.

"Mother! Mother!" cried the boy.

There was no time to lose. LasvÈne lifted him by the collar and dropped him into the dark hole, and closed the cover. FranÇoise extended her arms to the old man. "Thanks!" she said.

"We are caught like rats in a hole!" he growled.

The Cossacks began to tear down the walls.

"Can you walk?" said the old soldier to FranÇoise.

"No!"

"Then you must die!"

"Will the children be saved?"

"Yes."

"Then do what you will!"

LasvÈne snatched a burning log from the fire and threw it into the middle of a pile of brushwood.

"Fan it!" he whispered hoarsely.

And FranÇoise dragged herself forward and fanned the flames with her dying breath.

"Brave woman!" cried LasvÈne. "And now, welcome death! Vive la France!"

He poured his flask of powder on the floor. There was a terrible explosion.

FranÇoise and old LasvÈne have done their duty ere they died. The walls of the hut fall, and hide the trap door.