Part 3 (1/2)
”By Saint Anne of Auray!” exclaimed another. ”Why did you make us fight? Was it to save your own skin from the Blues?”
Marche-a-Terre darted a venomous look at his questioner and struck the ground with his heavy carbine.
”Am I your leader?” he asked. Then after a pause he added, pointing to the remains of Hulot's detachment, ”If you had all fought as I did, not one of those Blues would have escaped, and the coach could have got here safely.”
”They'd never have thought of escorting it or holding it back if we had let them go by without a fight. No, you wanted to save your precious skin and get out of their hands-He has bled us for the sake of his own snout,” continued the orator, ”and made us lose twenty thousand francs in good coin.”
”Snout yourself!” cried Marche-a-Terre, retreating three steps and aiming at his aggressor. ”It isn't that you hate the Blues, but you love the gold. Die without confession and be d.a.m.ned, for you haven't taken the sacrament for a year.”
This insult so incensed the Chouan that he turned pale and a low growl came from his chest as he aimed in turn at Marche-a-Terre. The young chief sprang between them and struck their weapons from their hands with the barrel of his own carbine; then he demanded an explanation of the dispute, for the conversation had been carried on in the Breton dialect, an idiom with which he was not familiar.
”Monsieur le marquis,” said Marche-a-Terre, as he ended his account of the quarrel, ”it is all the more unreasonable in them to find fault with me because I have left Pille-Miche behind me; he'll know how to save the coach for us.”
”What!” exclaimed the young man, angrily, ”are you waiting here, all of you, to pillage that coach?-a parcel of cowards who couldn't win a victory in the first fight to which I led you! But why should you win if that's your object? The defenders of G.o.d and the king are thieves, are they? By Saint Anne of Auray! I'd have you know, we are making war against the Republic, and not robbing travellers. Those who are guilty in future of such shameful actions shall not receive absolution, nor any of the favors reserved for the faithful servants of the king.”
A murmur came from the group of Chouans, and it was easy to see that the authority of the new chief was about to be disputed. The young man, on whom this effect of his words was by no means lost, was thinking of the best means of maintaining the dignity of his command, when the trot of a horse was heard in the vicinity. All heads turned in the direction from which the sound came. A lady appeared, sitting astride of a little Breton horse, which she put at a gallop as soon as she saw the young leader, so as to reach the group of Chouans as quickly as possible.
”What is the matter?” she said, looking first at the Chouans and then at their chief.
”Could you believe it, madame? they are waiting to rob the diligence from Mayenne to Fougeres when we have just had a skirmish, in order to release the conscripts of Fougeres, which has cost us a great many men without defeating the Blues.”
”Well, where's the harm of that?” asked the young lady, to whom the natural shrewdness of a woman explained the whole scene. ”You have lost men, but there's no lack of others; the coach is bringing gold, and there's always a lack of that. We bury men, who go to heaven, and we take money, which goes into the pockets of heroes. I don't see the difficulty.”
The Chouans approved of her speech by unanimous smiles.
”Do you see nothing in all that to make you blush?” said the young man, in a low voice. ”Are you in such need of money that you must pillage on the high-road?”
”I am so eager for it, marquis, that I should put my heart in p.a.w.n if it were not already captured,” she said, smiling coquettishly. ”But where did you get the strange idea that you could manage Chouans without letting them rob a few Blues here and there? Don't you know the saying, 'Thieving as an owl'?-and that's a Chouan. Besides,” she said, raising her voice to be heard by the men, ”it is just; haven't the Blues seized the property of the Church, and our own?”
Another murmur, very different from the growl with which the Chouans had answered their leader, greeted these words. The young man's face grew darker; he took the young lady aside and said in the annoyed tone of a well-bred man, ”Will those gentlemen be at La Vivetiere on the appointed day?”
”Yes,” she replied, ”all of them, the Claimant, Grand-Jacques, and perhaps Ferdinand.”
”Then allow me to return there. I cannot sanction such robbery. Yes, madame, I call it robbery. There may be honor in being robbed, but-”
”Well, well,” she said, interrupting him, ”then I shall have your share of the booty, and I am much obliged to you for giving it up to me; the extra sum will be extremely useful, for my mother has delayed sending me money, so that I am almost dest.i.tute.”
”Adieu!” cried the marquis.
He turned away, but the lady ran after him.
”Why won't you stay with me?” she said, giving him the look, half-despotic, half-caressing, with which women who have a right to a man's respect let him know their wishes.
”You are going to pillage that coach?”
”Pillage? what a word!” she said. ”Let me explain to you-”
”Explain nothing,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it with the superficial gallantry of a courtier. ”Listen to me,” he added after a short pause: ”if I were to stay here while they capture that diligence our people would kill me, for I should certainly-”
”Not kill them,” she said quickly, ”for they would bind your hands, with all the respect that is due to your rank; then, having levied the necessary contribution for their equipment, subsistence, and munitions from our enemies, they would unbind you and obey you blindly.”