Part 90 (1/2)

”Because you are captured, sir.”

It was so true that there could be no answer.

”Then kill me!” cried Roland.

”We don't want to kill you, sir,” replied Branche-d'Or.

”Then what do you want?”

”Give us your parole not to fight any more, and you are free.”

”Never!” exclaimed Roland.

”Excuse me, Monsieur de Montrevel,” said Branche-d'Or, ”but that is not loyal!”

”What!” shrieked Roland, in a fury, ”not loyal! You insult me, villain, because you know I can't defend myself or punish you.”

”I am not a villain, and I didn't insult you, Monsieur de Montrevel; but I do say that by not giving your word, you deprive the general of nine men, who might be useful to him and who are obliged to stay here to guard you. That's not the way the Big Round Head acted toward you. He had two hundred men more than you, and he sent them away. Now we are only eighty-nine against one hundred.”

A flame crossed Roland's face; then almost as suddenly he turned pale as death.

”You are right, Branche-d'Or,” he replied. ”Succor or no succor, I surrender. You and your men can go and fight with your comrades.”

The Chouans gave a cry of joy, let go their hold of Roland, and rushed toward the Republicans, brandis.h.i.+ng their hats and muskets, and shouting: ”Vive le roi!”

Roland, freed from their grip, but disarmed physically by his fall, morally by his parole, went to the little eminence, still covered by the cloak which had served as a tablecloth for their breakfast, and sat down. From there he could see the whole combat; not a detail was lost upon him.

Cadoudal sat erect upon his horse amid fire and smoke, like the Demon of War, invulnerable and implacable.

Here and there the bodies of a dozen or more Chouans lay stretched upon the sod. But it was evident that the Republicans, still ma.s.sed together, had lost double that number. Wounded men dragged themselves across the open s.p.a.ce, meeting, rearing their bodies like mangled snakes, to fight, the Republicans with their bayonets, and the Chouans with their knives.

Those of the wounded Chouans who were too far off to fight their wounded enemies hand to hand, reloaded their guns, and, struggling to their knees, fired and fell again.

On either side the struggle was pitiless, incessant, furious; civil war--that is war without mercy or compa.s.sion--waved its torch above the battlefield.

Cadoudal rode his horse around these living breastworks, firing at twenty paces, sometimes his pistols, sometimes a musket, which he discharged, cast aside, and picked up again reloaded. At each discharge a man fell. The third time he made this round General Hatry honored him with a fusillade. He disappeared in the flame and smoke, and Roland saw him go down, he and his horse, as if annihilated. Ten or a dozen Republicans sprang from the ranks and met as many Chouans; the struggle was terrible, hand to hand, body to body, but the Chouans, with their knives, were sure of the advantage.

Suddenly Cadoudal appeared, erect, a pistol in each hand; it was the death of two men; two men fell. Then through the gap left by these ten or twelve he flung himself forward with thirty men. He had picked up an army musket, and, using it like a club, he brought down a man with each blow. He broke his way through the battalion, and reappeared at the other side. Then, like a boar which returns upon the huntsman he has ripped up and trampled, he rushed back through the gaping wound and widened it. From that moment all was over.

General Hatry rallied a score of men, and, with bayonets down, they fell upon the circle that enveloped them. He marched at the head of his soldiers on foot; his horse had been killed. Ten men had fallen before the circle was broken, but at last he was beyond it. The Chouans wanted to pursue them, but Cadoudal, in a voice of thunder, called them back.

”You should not have allowed him to pa.s.s,” he cried, ”but having pa.s.sed he is free to retreat.”

The Chouans obeyed with the religious faith they placed in the words of their chief.

”And now,” said Cadoudal, ”cease firing; no more dead; make prisoners.”

The Chouans drew together and surrounded the heaps of dead, and the few living men, more or less wounded, who lay among the dead.

Surrendering was still fighting in this fatal war, where on both sides the prisoners were shot--on the one side, because Chouans and Vendeans were considered brigands; on the other, because they knew not where to put the captives.