THE 
 
 OFFICER'S BRIDE. 
 
 A Tale of the French Revolution* 
 
 BY 
 OCTAVE FEUILLET. 
 
 t^v^ J^ 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HURST and COMPANY, 
 PUBLISHERS. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 rf-60 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. ON THE SEA-SHORE 5 
 
 II. GHOSTLY SIGHTS 28 
 
 III. TREACHERY 52 
 
 IV. THE CANONESS SUSPECTED 64 
 
 V. THE WHITE FEATHER 76 
 
 VI. THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS 93 
 
 VII. LIBERTY AND EQUALITY... 107 
 
 VIII. GENERAL HOCHE 123 
 
 IX. A SOLITARY JOURNEY 136 
 
 X. SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU 153 
 
 XL A DEED OF DARING 169 
 
 XII. THE MENDICANT 193 
 
 XIII. A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE 216 
 
 XIV. ALIX 238 
 
 XV. BURIED ALIVE 264 
 
 E273839 
 
The Officer's Bride. 
 
 AN HISTORICAL NOVEL. 
 
 BY OCTAVE FEUILLET. 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE COUNT DE CAMORS," "THE AMOURS OF PHILIPPE; 
 OR, PHILIPPE'S LOVE AFFAIRS." 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 ON the southern coast of Finisterre, is a sheltered 
 bay, on which stands a lovely village, which before 
 it was infested b}' artists, gloried in its pretty women, 
 in the most charming of costumes. Unfortunately, 
 
 artists found their way there ; the women of F 
 
 learned that they were effective and brilliant, that in 
 short, they were picturesque ; after which they began to 
 wear their national costumes with considerable awk- 
 wardness, and to look as if they were masquerading in 
 the eoiffes that had been handed down from mother to 
 daughter. 
 
 In the year 1795, the happy serenil in which this 
 
 (5) 
 
G ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 little village basked, was almost a phenomenon, for up 
 to this date, the Breton insurrection had enlisted few 
 recruits in this furthermost point of the Peninsula. 
 The Republic was here little more than a name. The 
 
 fishermen of F finding that their boats, their 
 
 wives, and their homes, were respected, as well as their 
 old rector, who, in spite of the imprudence of his 
 language was either tolerated or ignored, concluded that 
 the Republic had forgotten them, and in their turn 
 forgot the Republic. 
 
 Such was the position of the inhabitants of F 
 
 toward the National Convention, when on the 12th of 
 June, 1795, at dawn, this harmony the quiet of a 
 mutual tolerance was inopportunely disturbed by 
 loud blows upon the doors of the most conspicuous 
 persons in the village. 
 
 Greatly startled, the villagers perceived that the 
 Square in front of the church, was crowded with the 
 blue uniforms and red plumes of the Grenadiers of the 
 Republic. A detachment of some fifty men, preceded 
 by two mounted officers, had invaded the village, thus 
 violating the rights of neutrals, which this little corner 
 of the world flattered itself it had acquired being as 
 yet unstained by any Revolutionary disturbance. 
 
 The panic created in the village, by this brutal 
 aggression, yielded by degrees to the pacific assurances 
 of the officers, and to the friendly bearing of the 
 soldiers. Soon the villagers had no other anxiet} 
 than that of discovering the meaning and end of the 
 
ON TITE SEA-SnORE. 7 
 
 expedition. Notwithstanding the small number of 
 the soldiers, the rank of one of the officers who wore 
 the epaulettes of a Commandant, seem to indicate that 
 this military movement was not without importance. 
 
 In the rear of the Republican troops, were several 
 saddle horses led by a Breton peasant in his national 
 garb. 
 
 Just as the good fishermen of Finisterre were becom- 
 ing wild with curiosity, they were still further excited 
 by another most unusual spectacle. A frigate, evi- 
 dently English, suddenly appeared in the bay. It was 
 clear that it was coming as near the shore as prudence 
 would permit. 
 
 This second event furnished a ready explanation of 
 the first; the frigate wished to land a body of invaders, 
 and the fleet, just arrived, was sent to prevent 
 this from being done. A mental comparison between 
 the forces of the Republican detachment, and those 
 which might easily be contained in the capacious 
 frigate, gave the inevitable issue of the contest. This 
 ingenious discovery was not made with entire satisfac- 
 tion, for to do justice to the dwellers in this fishing 
 town, it must be admitted that the colors of Old 
 England were not more acceptable to them, than were 
 those of the French Republic. 
 
 Singularly enough, the idea awakened in the minds 
 of the fishermen, by the appearance of the frigate, was 
 precisely that entertained by the soldiers scattered on 
 the beach. Rough, but honest and pious children of 
 
3 ON THE SEA-SIIORE. 
 
 that Republic, whose heroism was its daily bread 
 accustomed to hearing and seeing acts of courage full 
 of that patriotic pride from which are born great mem- 
 ories, and noble deeds, these brave people saw nothing 
 terrific in the unequal combat which they believed to be 
 near at hand. 
 
 Five or six young soldiers, conscious of their inex- 
 perience, were asking advice of a Sergeant with a fierce 
 gray moustache. This person was named Bruidoux, 
 and he, instead of answering his inferiors at once, 
 thought it advisable to keep up his dignity. He took 
 from his hat a small plaid handkerchief, tins lie laid 
 with great care upon the sand, and then seated himself 
 with imposing majesty on this modest carpet. Opening 
 a small leather bag, he filled his short clay pipe in 
 the circumspect style of a man who knows the cost 
 of things. After passing his thumb over the orifice 
 of the pipe, in order to equalize the surface of this 
 precious vegetable, Bruidoux took out his briquet^ 
 and struck a light with great ceremony. When the 
 lighted pipe was at last adjusted in the corner of his 
 lips, the solemn Sergeant stretched himself at full 
 length on the sand interposing his two clasped hands, 
 between his neck and the damp sand, and as he sent 
 enormous puffs of smoke toward the sky, he said : 
 "Well, Colibri, what is it that you want to know?" 
 " Only, Sergeant," answered the awkward, round- 
 faced youth, whom Bruidoux designated by the friendly 
 name of Colibri, " I only want to know, if you thin*' 
 
ON THE SEA-SHORE. y 
 
 we are here to prevent that frigate from landing a lot 
 of men? " 
 
 " To this question," said Bruidoux, " I think I inight 
 possibly find some fifty answers, but I will content 
 myself with two; primo I think so; secundo 1 
 hope so." 
 
 At these words, which received from the lips that 
 uttered them, a certain sybilline authority, the 
 young grenadiers looked at each other, and communi- 
 cated their secret impressions, by a nod and a slight pro- 
 jection of the lower lip. 
 
 "Sergeant," continued Colibri, timidly, "at the 
 time you were fighting in America, I suppose you were 
 obliged to be on the sea, somewhat?" 
 
 "Naturally, my boy, no land route was invented 
 when I went to the New World ! And then, as well as 
 to-day, the voyage was far from being an agreeable or 
 easy one." 
 
 " Then, Sergeant, you ought to know how many men 
 a yessev of the size we see there, can carry." 
 
 " On a vessel of that capacity," answered Bruidoux, 
 phlegmatically, "I have seen fifteen hundred men, and 
 they could all have played the violin, without having 
 their elbows more interfered with, than a blind man 
 on a public square." 
 
 " Then," said Colibri, before whose eyes this state- 
 ment opened a melancholy perspective, "you think 
 that this frigate might contain a thousand men?" 
 
 " I do indeed, and with the greatest ease. What 
 then, young man ? " 
 
10 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 "There are only fifty of us," answered Colibri, 
 cautiously. 
 
 " Well ? " asked Bruidoux. 
 
 " That will be twenty to one, Sergeant." 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to tell me," replied the 
 old soldier, " what may be the name of that gay colored 
 rag I see floating from their mast, which begins to 
 affect my eyes disagreeably." 
 
 " It is the English flag," said Colibri. 
 
 " Good ! And would you also be amiable enough 
 to recall to my memory the name and quality of this 
 jewel ? " asked the Sergeant, as he pointed to the tri- 
 color waving in the breeze above the stacked bayonets. 
 
 " That is the flag of the Republic." 
 
 " Precisely, citizen Colibri. Now, my boy, remem- 
 ber what I say; if ever you should happen to find 
 yourself unexpectedly, face to face with a Prussian, or 
 an English Army, or with any Federalists, all you 
 have to do is to unfurl a banner like that, and you will 
 see that army take to its heels, one and all, like a lad to 
 whose back his mother's cook fastens a dish towel ! " 
 
 " But, Sergeant," answered Colibri ; " if we came 
 here to fight, what are these saddle horses for, which 
 that long-haired peasant leads in our rear?" 
 
 " Those horses," said the Sergeant, after a minute 
 devoted to reflection ; " are unquestionably intended 
 for prisoners of importance." 
 
 " Look ! " cried Colibri, " the vessel is stationary." 
 
 Sergeant Bruidoux raised himself on his elbow, and 
 
ON THE SEA-SITORE. T 
 
 shading his eyes with his hand, examined the frigate 
 attentively for a few moments. 
 
 " I am inclined to believe," he said, " that within an 
 hour my children, we shall see some hot work." 
 
 And Bruidoox shook the ashes from his pipe ; and 
 proceeded to fill it with as many tender precautions as 
 at first. 
 
 " One thing, Colibri, would be rather agreeable to 
 know," lie said, "and that is, if we are within range of 
 their cannon." 
 
 As the sergeant spoke the little group noticed that 
 one of the boats was being gradually lowered into the 
 water. This created a new excitement among the 
 fishermen and the soldiers, who exchanged perplexed 
 glances among themselves, while the commander of 
 the Republican troops, standing on a high rock, ex- 
 amined through a glass, every movement on board the 
 English ship. This personage, who was certainly not 
 more than twenty-five, wore the cumbrous uniform of 
 a Commandant, with an elegance very unusual at this 
 period. The beauty of his features, combined with 
 indefinable signs of race, would have assured to the 
 young officer a cordial welcome in the most aristo 
 cratic salons, while the nobility of his brow and the 
 gentle sweetness of his eyes, contrasted with the firm- 
 ness of his mouth, would have attracted flattering 
 notice in any reunion of women. Just behind this 
 officer stood a young man of nineteen, with fair hair 
 and rosy cheeks, in the uniform of an aid-de-camp. 
 
1 Ott ftfE SfiA-SHOllfi. 
 
 This youth figured as lieutenant on the staff of Gen- 
 eral Herve, and had for several d lys shared the command 
 of this detachment with the young chef de battalion. 
 
 "Commandant Herve," cried this youth, suddenly, 
 as he noticed the water gradually rising around the 
 rock, which served as an observatory to his superior, 
 " the tide is coming in. The water will be half way up 
 to your knees in a minute or two more." 
 
 Commandant Herve' turned with a distrait air, and 
 looked vaguely at his little aid-de-camp, with the air of 
 a man who is not quite sure that he is spoken to, then 
 returned to his glass and his observations. The youth- 
 ful aid-de-camp burst into a laugh. 
 
 " I tell you, Commandant," he continued, making a 
 trumpet of his two hands ; " I tell you that the tide 
 is coming in very rapidly, and you will certainly be 
 drowned drowned, do you hear ? " 
 
 The Commandant started like a man awakened 
 from a sound sleep, looked around with considerable 
 astonishment, and on seeing that his boots were already 
 vuibmerged to his ankles, leaped lightly on the beach, 
 murmuring a gentle imprecation, the careful wording 
 of which indicated the habits of good society, for a 
 well-bred man differs from a pedant even in those pas- 
 sionate utterances elicited by the surprise of a moment. 
 Then the young man, shutting up his spy-glass, began 
 to walk along the beach, with a rapid step, apparently 
 for no other end than to soothe his perturbed spirit. 
 
 The anxious soldiers lost not one movement of theix 
 Chtf. 
 
ON THE SEA-SIT ORE. 13 
 
 * I am sure," Colibri ventured to say, speaking loud- 
 ly enough to be heard by Bruidoux without addressing 
 him directly, " I am sure the Commandant regrets not 
 having brought the whole battalion." 
 
 As Bruidoux continued to smoke with Oriental placi- 
 dity, Colibri was emboldened. 
 
 "It must be," he said, "that the General was de- 
 ceived in regard to the force of the enemy, otherwise 
 he would have come himself with several batteries." 
 
 " Why not with the entire division, his staff and the 
 band?" interrupted the sonorous voice of Sergeant 
 Bruidoux. " Was it not advisable that the Republic 
 itself should have marched hither, with all the sans 
 culottes of France, for the preservation of the complex- 
 ion of citizen Colibri? The General, did you say, you 
 simpleton ? What do you know about him ? Has he 
 taken you into his councils ? Do you know anything 
 of the duties of a common soldier? By no means, but 
 my eyes are on you, young man, and as you do not 
 seem to be endowed with any surplus courage, I wish 
 to warn you that if you should chance to feel, when as- 
 sailed in front, certain sharp pricks behind, you need 
 not be surprised, for I know the man who intends to 
 administer them if necessary." 
 
 Before Sergeant Bruidoux had time to read on the 
 face of his subordinate the effect of his words, an ex- 
 clamation from the group about him, caused him to look 
 again at the sea. lie saw with great astonishment that 
 a boat had left the frigate, and was coming swiftly 
 toward thu shore. 
 
14 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 " They have sent us a flag of truce," said the ser- 
 geant, "and most prudently, too. Will you kindly tell 
 me, my good, eagle-eyed Colibri, what you can see in 
 that boat?" 
 
 " Saving your presence, sir, I think I see a half dozen 
 petticoats." 
 
 " Then," answered Bruidoux, " they are Scotch. I 
 know all the armies of the civilized world, and only 
 Scotchmen wear petticoats." 
 
 " Sergeant," asked Colibri, hastily, " do Scotchmen 
 wear caps, too ? " 
 
 " Caps," said Bruidoux, " I think not, you mean tur- 
 bans, I fancy." 
 
 " There is certainly one cap among them, Sergeant. 
 They may be Scotch women instead of men." 
 
 "Everything is possible," answered the Sergeant 
 philosophically, " but if women are coming here, I am 
 off!" 
 
 During this conversation, Commandant Hervd, seated 
 on an overturned boat, was drawing with the scabbard 
 of his sword, certain cabalistic figures, while his eyes 
 had that far-away expression indicative of memories or 
 hopes. A hand laid gently on his shoulder aroused 
 him from his reverie, while at the same moment a 
 clear, almost infantile voice said, behind him: 
 
 " This is a happy moment for you, Pelven?" 
 
 " Happy ! " answered the young man smiling half 
 sadly, "I am not so sure of that, Francis ; I have lived 
 long enough to knew, that one is not safe in calling a 
 
ON THE S E A - S II O R E . 15 
 
 moment happy or unhappy, until it has quite passed 
 away." 
 
 " But," returned Francis, looking at his friend affec- 
 tionately, * loes not that boat bring to your arms a 
 dearly loved sister? Is not this the happiness for 
 which you have been sighing for the last two years ? " 
 
 " If I only knew," answered Pelven, " that I was to 
 find in her the sister whom I remember, and for whom 
 I am hoping. She has lived so long amid our enemies ! 
 She has learned from all around her, to hate the very 
 uniform I wear." 
 
 " No, no ! " cried the young aide-de-camp with an 
 eagerness that covered his brow with a vivid color, "it 
 is only necessary to look at her letters, Herv6, which 
 you have allowed me to read, to feel that such a suspi- 
 cion is unworthy of her." 
 
 " And then, too," continued Hervd, smiling at the 
 enthusiasm of the youth, " my sister is not coming 
 alone. She is accompanied by several persons, who 1 
 am very sure, have no love for me, and you can easily 
 understand, Francis, that it must be to me, excessively 
 painful, to see only hostility and coldness on faces once 
 friendly and familiar." 
 
 *' If it would not be indiscreet, Commandant Herve*, 
 I shoull like to ask the number of ladies in that 
 boat?" 
 
 " In a time when politeness is the rarest of jewels, 
 Lieutenant Francis, it is impossible for me to refuse to 
 satisfy a curiosity, expressed with such punctiliousness. 
 
10 N T II E SEA-SI10ftft. 
 
 T shall say inching of Mademoiselle And red de Pelven, 
 ii iv sister, of whom I have already said too much, I 
 fancy." 
 
 Francis colored again. 
 
 "But," continued the Commandant, "you have 
 kindly forgiven the weakness of a brother. Beside 
 this young lady, the boat you see a half league off, is 
 honored by bringing to our shore Madame Eldnore de 
 Kergant, formerly a Canoness; she is sister to the 
 Marquis de Kergant, my guardian, and is the bitterest of 
 enemies to the French Republic, and the warmest friend 
 to etiquette and savoir vivre. Behind this lady, at a 
 respectful distance, you will see a young Bretonne who 
 promises to be one of the loveliest creatures by whom 
 the eyes of man were ever charmed. Her name is Alix, 
 and she is the daughter of Citizen Kado that tall Bre- 
 ton guide who leads the horses : look at him now ! notice 
 his long hair, his broad brimmed hat and full breeches, 
 his coat a la Louis XIV. you will see that he has an 
 immense amount of beauty, and this beauty will give 
 you an idea of that which characterizes his daughter. 
 She has been brought up at the chateau, and lives 
 there in a double position, she is not a demoiselle, nor 
 yet is she a 'femme de chambre. Her hands are white^ 
 and Alix can read and write. At a still greater and 
 more respectful distance you will see a waiting-maid. 
 She is English or possibly Scotch, as her name is 
 MacGregor, and numbers among her ancestors the 
 chiefs of the clan, but has been reduced by mis- 
 
ON THE SEA-SllOUE. 1? 
 
 fortune after misfortune, to this subordinate position 
 As the Canoness has only recently taken her iiitn her 
 service, I have never seen her, but if you want her 
 portrait I can give it to you. She is tall, awkward, 
 and red-haired, and takes snuff secretly ! Are you 
 satisfied, Francis ? " 
 
 "Not yet, Commandant; for if my eyes do not 
 deceive me, there are five women in the boat, and you 
 have described but four." 
 
 "Ah! yes, to be sure," answered Herve* de Pelven, 
 with an embarrassment which was not lost to his 
 friend ; " there is, or ought to be, for I cannot see at 
 this distance, a certain Mademoiselle Bellah de Kergant, 
 daughter of the Marquis, and niece of the Canoness. 
 This name of Bellah has been in the family for a cen- 
 tury or more." 
 
 " And is that all you have to say?" cried Francis, 
 " not a word of praise, no epigram ? Do you wish me to 
 believe that the young lady is deformed, or is she so 
 absolutely perfect, that your pencil does not venture to 
 draw her portrait for me ? " 
 
 " It is a delicate matter to attempt a description of 
 our enemies," said Herve\ "and I regret that I am 
 compelled to include Mademoiselle de Kergant airong 
 the most ardent adversaries of the cause which J sus- 
 tain. She is my sister's friend for years she regarded 
 me as a brother, but of late she looks on me as a wretch, 
 stained with the blood of his King, soiled by the dust 
 of all broken and ruined relics." 
 9. 
 
18 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 A moment of silence followed these words uttervi 
 by the Commandant, in a voice vibrating with emotion* 
 then he resumed : 
 
 " You will see her, Francis, and } t ou shall tell me f 
 ever a painter put upon canvas, a diviner face, one of 
 more virginal purity, or one more clearly suggesting a 
 martyr's soul." 
 
 Herve again interrupted himself, and it was not until 
 after he had turned away to conceal the workings of 
 his face, that he added: 
 
 " It is a hard struggle sometimes, Francis, when the 
 beliefs and the duties of the man, are ranged against 
 the dearest sentiments of his youth." 
 
 The young Commandant, as he finished these words, 
 took a few hurried turns on the beach, while the Lieu- 
 tenant stood motionless on the spot where he had 
 received this semi-confidence, with misty eyes and his 
 brow covered by a heavy cloud, foreign to the natural 
 gayety of his face. 
 
 We will take advantage of the brief interval which 
 still separated the English boat from the shore, to 
 complete as briefly as possible, an explanation unfor- 
 tunately indispensable to the humblest recitals. 
 
 Herve* and his sister, orphans from their Earliest 
 youth, had been bequeathed to the guardianship of the 
 Marquis de Kergant, the old friend of their father, the 
 Comte de Pelven. The Marquis had fulfilled, consci- 
 entiously and delicately, the promise he had made by 
 the side of a dying bed. The two sad children had 
 
ON THE SEA-SIIORE. i 
 
 found a home under the roof of the loyal gentleman, 
 and a place at the side of Bellah, his only child ; and 
 had shared with her, all the advantages of a most caie- 
 ful education. When he had attained his seventeenth 
 year, Herve* was sent to a school in Paris, which lie left 
 only to enter the military establishment of Brienne. 
 At the close of each summer, the young man went 
 to the chateau, where he spent several weeks, 
 but while he went away, each year, with the same 
 grateful respect and veneration for his guardian, and 
 with the same love for the two charming sisters, who 
 welcomed him with tears in their eyes, he had felt that 
 new ideas and opinions, were fast taking the place of 
 the principles with which his childhood had been nour- 
 ished. The day that the Marquis learned the fatal 
 result of the journey of King Louis XVI. to Varennes, 
 he instantly foresaw the desperate efforts by which the 
 Breton noblesse would demonstrate their devotion to 
 their faith, and suddenly recalled his ward. Hervd 
 obeyed the summons and repaired to Kergant. He 
 lived there several months in great distress of mind, 
 divided between the powerful claims of his heart and 
 the deep convictions of his mind. Then he took his 
 resolution and secretly departed for Paris. A little 
 later, Monsieur de Kergant learned by a respectful 
 letter, that the son of the Comte de Pelven, was serving 
 as a volunteer in the army of the Republic. 
 
 From that day, although Mademoiselle de Pelven 
 felt that the manner of her guardian toward herseli 
 
20 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 was more kind and thoughtful than ever, she never 
 dared utter her brother's name, preferring that it 
 should be forgotten, rather than insulted. The other 
 inhabitants of the Chateau observed the same reserve, 
 thus demonstrating their detestation of the part taken 
 by Herve*, although this sentiment was graduated and 
 influenced by the ideas and character of each. The 
 Marquis regarded the son of his old friend, as a rene- 
 gade and a felon a traitor to God and to the King 
 who merited forgiveness neither in this world, nor the 
 next. Madame de Kergant, the Canoness, pictured to 
 herself her brother's young ward, bearing a head on a 
 pike, she saw him hanging without ceremony, trouble- 
 some Royalists to the lamp posts. Bellah regarded him 
 as a man born with the noblest qualities, who had 
 yielded to temptation and drifted into crime ; she felt 
 such horror at this desertion and desecration of all her 
 domestic altars, that never once did the proud child 
 either dare, or wish, to mingle the name of the traitor in 
 the most sacred murmurs of her prayers. Perhaps she 
 hoped in her heart, that a merciful God would conde- 
 scend to read this proscribed name in her sad and tearful 
 eyes, which she raised to Heaven as she knelt. Herv6 
 de Pelven arrived with his gun on his shoulder,' at the 
 army of the Moselle, just as General Hoche took the com- 
 mand. A gallant act of Herve's promoted him almost 
 immediately to the rank of Sergeant. Later, at Wissem- 
 bourg, when his battalion fell back in disorder before 
 the formidable artillery of an Austrian redoubt, he 
 
OK fHE SiA-SHOllE. 41 
 
 threw himself alone upon the fascines with the tri-eolor 
 in his hand, and stood there for a minute under the 
 fusillade. The Republicans, animated by his audacity, 
 were carried away by his example, and bore his dying 
 body from among the corpses of his enemies. The 
 General-in-Chief, a personal witness of Herves gal- 
 lantry, wished the brave youth to take command of 
 the battalion which he had saved, and made illustrious ; 
 but Herv<3 had not risen from his bed of suffering to 
 which his wounds had consigned him, when General 
 Hoche passed from his camp of victory to prison. 
 Herve* lost more than a protector ; the affection which 
 Hoche had shown him, his disregard of the difference 
 in their rank as well as their age, gave him a right 
 to regret a friend, in the chief who had been carried 
 away. 
 
 It was at this time that Pelven learned by a letter 
 from London, that his sister Andrei, Mademoiselle 
 Bellah de Kergant, and the Canoness, had emigrated to 
 England, by order of the Marquis, but of the Marquis 
 himself, Andrew's letter made no mention. Herve* had 
 a painful explanation of this silence somewhat later, 
 when he found the name of Monsieur de Kergant 
 among those of the Royalists who made, in the west, 
 so redoubtable a diversion. From that time the young 
 officer received at intervals, letters from his sister ; this 
 mysterious correspondence weakened the confidence 
 that the converted Aristocrat had first aroused in the 
 Republican army. Notwithstanding the high military 
 
%% ON THE SfeA-SilORlL 
 
 qualities lie continued to display, the vague suspicions 
 which hung about him, retained him in the rank to 
 which he had been first elevated, a rank which in those 
 days of rapid fortunes, seemed unworthy of a young 
 man of courage and merit. The ennui of this doubtful 
 position threw a still heavier shadow over Herve" s 
 character he became a prey to the most invincible 
 melancholy. The enthusiasm which had inspired and 
 sustained his generous resolution, had passed away 
 when the sacrifice was once accomplished, and there 
 remained to Herve*, only the calm support of an ele- 
 vated and firm conviction. Hei-ve* realised the value 
 of his sacrifice, only after its consummation. Then 
 only did his sentiments, free from the tumult of his 
 irresolution, appear in all their sincerity. He recalled 
 the impression, made by Mademoiselle de Kergant, and 
 understood her character well enough, to entertain no 
 doubt as to the manner in which she looked upon his 
 conduct ; besides Andrei's letters told him the truth. 
 Not only did Bellah add no word of polite remembrance 
 to her friend's letters, written to the man on whom she 
 had looked for years as on a brother, but it was evident 
 that Andree herself, was hampered by inflexible prohi- 
 bitions. This inference Herve* drew from the reticence 
 of the invariable postcript, "Bellah is well." Once, 
 only, did Andree dare to exceed the limits of this cruel 
 bulletin, and added " She is beautiful as an angel." 
 It would be difficult to sa} r , why this feminine phrase 
 irritated Herve as it did, but at all events it was at 
 
ON THE SEA-SHORE. 23 
 
 this time, that he began to fancy that the strong senti- 
 ment which the thought of Mademoiselle de Kergant 
 awoke in his heart, was absolute hatred. 
 
 The 9th Thermidor restored General Hoche to his 
 country. A little later he was called to the command 
 at Brest, and recruited his forces from the corps 
 detached from the army of the North. The sixteenth 
 demi brigade in which Pelven served was the first of 
 which Hoche took possession. Herv^ found the ycung 
 man whom we know under the name of Francis, 
 regarded with great favor by the General. The mother 
 of this youth had been in prison with the General, and 
 had, before appearing before the terrible tribunal from 
 which she never returned, commended her son to the 
 Republican General. It may be, that he was actuated 
 by a pious reverence for the wishes of a dying mother, 
 or even that he was actuated by a tenderer sentiment, 
 at all events the truth remains the same, that the 
 General felt for this youth the warmest affection. 
 
 One winter's day in the year 1794, Hoche, coming 
 up to headquarters with three battalions, was attacked 
 on the shores of the Vilaine by Stofflet's command. 
 From a small eminence, where he stood during the 
 combat, he suddenly saw his young aid-de-camp borne 
 away almost from his very side, by five or six partisans. 
 At the same moment a Republican officer, dashed for- 
 ward with his reins in his teeth, making his way 
 through the group about the brave boy: snatching the 
 prisoner by the collar of his coat, he drew him on to his 
 saddle* and bore this living trophy to the foot of the 
 
24 ON THE SEA- SHORE. 
 
 .iil], amid the unbounded applause of the whole staff. 
 By this chivalric deed, Herve* had strengthened the 
 friendly interest which Hoche already felt in hini, 
 while Francis conceived for his preserver a passionate 
 and enthusiastic enthusiasm. 
 
 Some weeks later, the first truce of La Vendee* and 
 Brittany was signed. Herv^ then received a letter 
 from his sister, who begged him to obtain permission 
 for herself and her companions in exile, to return to 
 France. She asked in addition that an escort of 
 Republican soldiers should protect them as far as 
 Kergant, against the Chouans, who were opposed to 
 the present truce, and would take pleasure in avenging 
 on them, the part which the Marquis had taken in this 
 happy result. Notwithstanding the slight importance 
 which he attached to this incomplete peace, Hoche saw 
 no reason for supposing, that the appearance of two or 
 three women could increase the dangers which Brittany 
 was preparing for the Republic. The 9th of Ther- 
 midor had opened an era of clemency following the 
 regime of terror. The Marquis de Kergant was among 
 the Royalist chiefs pardoned by this amnesty, and 
 Hoche did not hesitate to make this innocent ponces 
 sion to a man to whom he was personally a debtor, 
 and whose character had inspired him with absolute 
 confidence. 
 
 The reader now understands what had brought to 
 the coast of Finisterre, the detachment of Republican 
 soldiers whom we have been leaving to their own devi- 
 ces altogether too long. 
 
ON THE SEA-SHORE. 25 
 
 The English boat touched the slore, coming in on 
 the waves to a tiny sheltered bay among the rocks. 
 Herve^ and Francis hurried forward to assist :n the 
 embarkation, while the soldiers with manifest curiosity 
 stood a little in the rear, Sergeant Bruidoux alone 
 was unmoved, he lay on his back at some distance, 
 protesting, by the lazy disdain of his position, against 
 the scene which threatened to give the lie to his pro- 
 phetic science. 
 
 When the boat was but a few feet from the shore, 
 the rowers lifted their oars suddenly, and at the same 
 moment the young midshipman in command, stood on 
 one of the seats, and with a profound bow, said to 
 Ilerve, who carried his hand to his cap with punctil- 
 ious courtesy : "If you, sir, are the person whom I 
 suppose, you will not blame me if I ask your creden- 
 tials, before I confide to your hands the sacred care 
 with which I have been entrusted. 
 
 "But, sir," said a woman's voice eagerly, "it is my 
 brother ! I assure you, it is my brother ! " 
 
 Henre* waved his hand gayly toward the beautiful 
 creature who had just spoken, then taking a paper from 
 his pocket, stuck it on the point of his sword, and pre- 
 sented it to the Midshipman, who at once proceeded to 
 read it aloud. 
 
 " In virtue of the powers with which I have been 
 empowered by the Convention Nationale, I give 
 authority to enter and sojourn on the territory of 
 the Republic, to the citoyennv^ Eleonore Kergant, 
 formerly a Canoness, to Bellah Kergant, and Andre? 
 
26 ON THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 Pelven, minors, accompanied by the citoyennes Alix 
 Kado, and MacGregor, their personal servants." 
 
 This paper was signed by General Hoche. 
 
 Madame Elenore listened to the reading of this 
 paper, with many eloquent shrugs of the shoulders, 
 which having finished, the Midshipman folded and 
 presented to the old lady, and the boat was moored by 
 the rocks. The Canoness was the first to step on shore, 
 and then quickly turning, offered her hand in turn to 
 each of her companions in exile. It might have been 
 chance, or it might have been premeditated cruelty on 
 the part of Madame de Kergant, at all events it was 
 An dree* who was the last to land. 
 
 " My brother ! " she cried, as she leaped into Herve*'s 
 arms with the tears streaming down her fair cheeks, "I 
 see yow at last ! Ah ! Heavens, what bliss ! You look 
 just as you did when we parted ! Is it not strange, 
 Bellah ? I really expected to see his hair gray ! " 
 
 " But, dear child," remonstrated Herve\ with a laugh, 
 " it is only two years since we saw each other." 
 
 "Only!" repeated Andree*, "but I call two years a 
 very long time! " 
 
 " Far too long, I admit, but hardly enough for 
 a man to become decrepid ! " 
 
 "So much the better, then," answered Andree*, with 
 a charming little grimace, as with a delighted rippling 
 laugh, she threw her arms once more around her 
 brother's neck, and took his arm to walk to the 
 village. The Canoness had promptly claimed Bellah's 
 
support, fearing, apparently, that the Republican officer 
 would have the audacity to offer his. 
 
 The Breton guide was seated upon a turned-over 
 boat, holding his daugliier's hands in his, and talking 
 to her in the patois 01 his ancestors. The somewhat 
 Jewish character of the girl's beauty, was heightened 
 by the elegance of her national costume. Her noble, 
 regular features, illuminated by superb black eyes, 
 were framed by a Bretonne coiffe, the white wings 
 of which were fastened to the top of her head. 
 Nothing in the attitude of Alix, or in her way of 
 moving, indicated that embarrassment which often 
 makes the movements of women in her position in 
 life, so excessively awkward. 
 
 Herve* could not refrain from admiring the splendor, 
 with which the humblest of his companions had kept 
 the promise of her youth, but her beauty bore no com- 
 parison to that of Bellah, which, nearly of the same 
 type, was elevated by intellectual culture. She had 
 the same dignity, with even greater distinction and ease 
 of bearing. Bellah was, so to speak, the second effort 
 of a sculptor, finished with more care than his first, and 
 striving after perfection. 
 
 While Commandant Herve* continued to walk along 
 the shore, listening with intense delight to the voice of 
 his young sister, which brought with it, the memory of 
 so many vanished joys, the young a d-de-camp departed 
 with slow, reluctant steps, his heart filled with that 
 sadness inspired by some family fete, in which we have 
 uo part or DarceL 
 
28 fcOflfLY SI3HTS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 AT the order of their Commandant the soldiers had 
 promptly fallen into line. The women mounted 
 the horses standing ready for them, and took their 
 places in the centre of the detachment, which left the 
 village preceded by the guide Kado. Herve* following 
 the directions of the General, was to avoid all inhab- 
 ited places, and the small band soon found themselves 
 following their tall guide over marshy meadows, or arid 
 moors. Herve*, leaving his sister with regret, turned 
 his horse toward that of the young aide-de-camp at 
 the head of the detachment. 
 
 " Well, Francis," he said, " did I draw too vivid a 
 picture of this first interview ? And now that you have 
 seen Mademoiselle de Kergant with your own eyes, 
 what do you think of her ? " 
 
 " She is very pleasant-looking, Commandant." 
 
 " Pleasant-looking, lieutenant Francis ? You are 
 certainly very cautious in your way of expressing 
 yourself, and, pray, do you call the reception she 
 accorded to me, pleasant also ? " 
 
 "I cannot call it anything, for upon my word I did 
 not see her speak to you; but your sister, Pelven 
 your charming sister " 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 29 
 
 " My charming sister," interrupted Pelven, a little 
 out of temper, " does not need to be defended, since 
 she has not, so far as I am aware, been attacked." 
 
 Francis did not reply, but looked at Hervd, with an 
 expression of surprise and reproach, which calmed the 
 young man's excitement. 
 
 " Why the deuce," said Herve* with a laugh, " do 
 you insist on talking of Andree*, when I speak of Bel- 
 lah ? Admit, can't you, that the beauty of Mademoi- 
 selle de Kergant is almost startling." 
 
 " Startling is a very good word," said Francis. " I 
 picked up her whip a minute ago, and when she thanked 
 me, she fixed her eyes on me so steadily that I assure 
 you I turned cold, and shivered from head to foot. I 
 wished to utter some polite common-place, but could 
 find nothing to say. My words resolved themselves 
 into a little gasp, and I assure you I am indignant with 
 her for affecting me in such a way. Her beauty is won 
 derful indeed, but it astonishes more than it touches. 
 How great is the difference now between her and " 
 
 "And the Canoness," interrupted Herve\ "Yes, to 
 be sure ; the difference is indeed very remarkable. I 
 congratulate you on having discovered it at this early 
 date." 
 
 As the young man talked, they had ridden a little in 
 advance of the escort, which at this moment was 
 climbing a hill. The landscape directly before them, 
 consisted of steep gullies through which ran swift tor- 
 rents. The bright uniforms winding among the rockn 
 
30 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 the graceful feminine cavalcade with vails and white 
 plumes floating in the wind all this life and movement 
 in this wild, deserted spot, presented a scene of pictu- 
 resque interest to the two officers, as they turned *n 
 their saddles and looked back. 
 
 " Look, Pelven," cried Francis, " don't you feel lik*. 
 an enchanter, carrying off into captivity a queen 
 dowager, and a bevy of princesses?" 
 
 " I am more enchanted than enchanter," answered 
 Herve*. " I must confess, Francis, that I don't like this 
 wild spot. I have precious little confidence in our 
 guide, he is after his own fashion, and, according to his 
 light, a very honest man, but as much of a Royalist as 
 the Royal tiger himself. I beg you to watch him. 
 Look, now what is he doing at this very moment ? " 
 
 The guide was following along the edge of the hill, 
 and stopped every few moments to push off with his 
 foot stone after stone, which rolled down into the 
 terrible abyss of the valley below. 
 
 "But," said Francis, "it seems to me that citoyen 
 Kado is amusing himself in the most innocent fashion." 
 
 " The apparent innocence of the amusement strikes 
 me as being suspicious," answered Herve\ " A man 
 with so grave a face, and whose manners are so solemn, 
 does not often indulge in suck puerile plays. Watch 
 him he is listening, and now he is leaning over the 
 precipice." 
 
 " That is all right enough, surely. He is listening 
 to the stones as they bound from rock tc rock. It 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 31 
 
 seems to me that this uncultivated savage has simple 
 tastes, and " 
 
 " Hark ! " interrupted Herve\ " Did you hear that ? " 
 ^ "Hear what?" 
 
 44 There was a whistle, anl I saw the guide exchange 
 a look with the Canoness." 
 
 " Yes, I did hear a whistle ; or it might have been 
 the wind through that group of trees. As for the ex- 
 change of glances, between that courtly dame and this 
 savage, I must confess with regret, that it escaped my 
 observation. But, really, Commandant, I do not share 
 your apprehensions. Are we not protected by the 
 presence of your sister? Does not she preclude the 
 possibility of any plot, in which her brother would 
 necessarily fall the first victim ? " 
 
 " She might not know anything of it ; and as I look 
 again at that powdered head of the Canoness, I am con- 
 vinced that no sanguinary idea ever found birth in it ! 
 Your opinion, my dear fellow, is not worth much on 
 that point. I have no doubt that she has dabbled in 
 politics during her sojourn in England, nor should I be 
 in the least surprised, were I to discover, that she has 
 had constant communication with Pitt." 
 
 " Then I can only say that I am uncommonly sorry 
 for Pitt!" answered Francis. 
 
 " Precisely ! but among the ideas within that restless 
 brain, what should you say if something like this 
 had formed itself there to draw this escort of the 
 Commandant into some snare, and then fix on him a 
 
32 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 suspicion of complicity which would so hopelessly 
 compromise him in the eyes of the Republic, that he 
 would find himself, 4 bon gr6 mal gre" ', involved with 
 the Royalists." 
 
 "Hum! Hum ! " murmured Francis. "You have 
 presented a specious argument, but after all they could 
 hardly expect, knowing Commandant Herve* as they 
 do, to carry out such a plan." 
 
 " But passion and prejudice could blind them to such 
 a point, that they might try to do me this injury. But 
 after all, these notions of mine may bo the merest 
 nonsense, and I only wish to remind you, that we are, 
 after all, in an enemy's country, and that it is advisable 
 to keep our eyes open." 
 
 " Be easy, Commandant, I will watch the guide, the 
 queen mother, and " 
 
 " My charming sister ? " asked Herve* in a low voice. 
 
 "No, Monsieur Pelven ; no. I would as soon sus- 
 pect a marble statue of innocence. I meant to say 
 that I would watch that beautiful savage, the daughter 
 of the guard." 
 
 Andree*, now coming up to join her brother, put an 
 end to the conversation between these two young men. 
 it was now midday. The caravan was following 
 a path, on either side of which, extended a desolate 
 plain as far as the eye could reach. Clumps of tall 
 broom, of the height of a man, broke the monotony of 
 this Breton desert; here and there lay huge granite 
 boulders covered with black lichens. In the centre of 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 33 
 
 the plain was a cluster of huts, but this indication of 
 the presence of man, had nothing reassuring to the 
 travelers, and only seemed to add to the desolation 
 .and impart an additional element of fear. 
 
 The caravan halted for a half hour in this sad oasis. 
 Before the door of the hut nearest the road, was seated 
 a young man, haggard, wild-eyed and in rags. He 
 held up one hand and then the other, to the sunshine 
 with an air of stupid enjoyment. 
 
 " It is my poor boy who has been afflicted by the 
 hon Dieu" said an old woman coming out of the hut 
 as Herve* approached. The young officer placed a piece 
 of silver in her hand and quickly departed from this 
 afflicting spectacle, but turning around some minutes 
 later, he was surprised to see the poor idiot engaged in 
 an animated conversation with the guide : he extended 
 his arm towards the north, and was speaking with 
 extreme volubility. Seeing that Herve was watching 
 him, he relapsed suddenly into his former attitude. 
 
 " It is a great pity, sir, isn't it ? " asked Kado as 
 he passed the young officer, who made no reply, but 
 distrusting such an intelligent idiot, took care that no 
 further communication should take place between the 
 guide and himself. 
 
 The march was speedily resumed, and the hours 
 passed on without any new incident taking place, 
 which could confirm or strengthen Pelven'^ suspicions. 
 
 The sun was setting, and Francis, yielding to the 
 peculiar charm of the hour, began to sing a little 
 8 
 
34 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 impromptu ballad, in imitation of those of the days of 
 chivalry, where each person of the party was men- 
 tioned, Hei've* laughed heartily at this improvised 
 epic, and at the character at once heroic and 
 burlesque with which he was himself invested. 
 
 Stopping, however, suddenly, as he reached the 
 daughter of the MacGregor as he called the Scotch- 
 woman he said : 
 
 " Do you know that she seems to me the most 
 discreet and quiet of Scotchwomen and maids ! I am 
 sorry to say, Commandant, that I see no resemblance 
 to the caricature with which you favored me, as her 
 portrait." 
 
 " I told you, Francis, if you will remember, that I 
 had never seen her ; and if she continues to travel 
 vith her vail as closely drawn as now, it looks to me as 
 f that pleasure would never be mine." 
 
 "I have been more fortunate," answered Francis, a 
 treacherous gust of wind, showed me a lovely oval face 
 and a double row of pearly teeth as to her figure and 
 the delicacy of her hands, you are as good a judge as 
 myself." 
 
 A few rods behind the two young officers Sergeant 
 Bruidoux was, by way of enlivening the march, hold 
 ing forth to Colibri. 
 
 " There are," he said, " women of all kinds some 
 who are too *stout, and others who are as thin as the 
 scabbard of my sword. There are some who are fair, 
 and some again who are dark. There are some who 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 35 
 
 have modesty and some who have none ; and let me 
 tell you for your benefit, Colibri, that those who have 
 the most, are very often those who have the least." 
 
 This somewhat contradictory statement, made to 
 astonish Colibri, produced the desired effect. He 
 promptly asked how that could be. 
 
 11 Suppose," said the Sergeant, loftily, " that you 
 should chance to meet a woman in a wood who was 
 totally naked, what would you think of her ? " 
 
 This extraordinary question brought a vivid blush 
 to Colibri's ingenuous countenance. He hesitated, and 
 said shamefacedly : 
 
 " Bless me, Sergeant, I don't know ! I should think 
 I suppose. Did you say in a wood, Sergeant ? " 
 
 44 Yes, in a wood. What would you think of her, I 
 ask?" 
 
 44 Well, I should take it for granted that she was 
 none too good." 
 
 44 Precisely ! " answered Bruidoux. 44 Now let me 
 tell you that I have seen in the woods of Canada, 
 women who were no more clothed, than my nose is, at 
 this precise minute. And yet I assure you, Colibri, 
 that these creatures were better defended by their sim- 
 ple innocence, than they would have been by a hundred 
 and twenty big cannon. I tell you this, my boy, to 
 show you of how little consequence yards of dry goods 
 may be at certain times. Now, as regards that Scottish 
 citoyenne over there, I tell you that all her thousand 
 and one wraps affect me to that degree, that if I had 
 
36 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 not sworn fidelity to a certain lass, whose respectable 
 name is transcribed on my left arm, I would offer my 
 hand and heart to our Scotch travelling companion." 
 
 u Do you mean then, Sergeant," said Colibri, " not- 
 withstanding her vails and all her falbalas, that she 
 would not be offended by a proposal, made civilly and 
 politely." 
 
 " I do mean jnst that, Colibri." 
 
 "And it would not be a hazardous step in your 
 estimation ? " 
 
 44 Well, it has its perils certainly primo, the Princess 
 might give you a cut with her whip, and, seeundo, it is 
 quite within the bounds of possibility that the Com- 
 mandant might stick his sabre through you. But these 
 are mere trifles which should not deter you. When I 
 was your age it took more than that to intimidate me. 
 I remember in '85 there was a pretty creature named 
 Loiza " 
 
 Here Bruidoux was interrupted by a general dis- 
 turbance in the column. It was noAv dark but very 
 clear. The party had commenced the descent of the 
 hillside. The narrow valley at the base, was swallowed 
 up in the darkness, and was indicated only by the 
 white mist rising from the marshes. A half league 
 further on, the shadowy outline of a steep hill was 
 seen against the sky, and upon the summit of this hill 
 was a dark mass the ruin of some feudal dwelling. 
 Through two oval windows, streamed the pale moon- 
 light, though the moon was not yet visible to our party. 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 37 
 
 Kervd and Francis drew up short, on beholding this 
 strange effect, while the women, with a vague senti- 
 ment of terror, huddled close together, and nearer the 
 officers. 
 
 " Is not that a scene, Mademoiselle," said Command- 
 ant Herv6*, turning toward the Scotchwoman; "sug* 
 gestive of your own native land ? " 
 
 The girl inclined her head silently. 
 
 " But my dear brother," cried Andree*, " we surely 
 shall not be obliged to spend the night in this melan- 
 choly spot?" 
 
 " You must remember that I did not deceive you in 
 your itinerary," Her^e* replied. ' ,4 You must attack 
 our honest friend Kado, if your sleeping-room fails 
 
 you." 
 
 " I shall die of fright, my dear ; that I know ! " 
 answered Andree*. 
 
 " I hope," said the Canoness, in her usual solemn 
 manner, " that Mademoiselle de Pelven will shortly be- 
 come reconciled to this old chateau, when she knows 
 that it was built by her brave ancestors, and that it is 
 the earliest patrimony of her family." 
 
 "Good!" cried Andree*. "I thank you from my 
 very heart, for your expression. Brave ancestors is 
 good, but I can only say that their descendant is a poor 
 little coward, and that as I have all their portraits in 
 my brain, I shall expect to see them all night long, 
 filing past my bed, from big-footed Oliver, down to 
 Greoffry of the tawny beard." 
 
8 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 "And when you see them, my dear," interrupted a 
 voice, whose calm, grave tones quickened the beat of 
 Herve's heart, "why should you fear them? You are 
 their loyal descendant ; you have never swerved from 
 their faith; you have preserved the honor of their name, 
 and the fidelity of their belief. No, Andree, it is net 
 for you to fear those, who lived and died for their God 
 and their King." 
 
 The young Republican Commandant felt the blood 
 mount to his face. 
 
 "If I know the history of my family," he said, in 
 some agitation, "more than one, among those of whom 
 Mademoiselle Kergant speaks, died in fighting against 
 the King, for his country the country of a Breton in 
 those days was Brittany ; to-day, it is France ! " 
 
 As he finished these words, Herve* pushed his horse 
 onward in the stony path which wound down the hill. 
 
 Francis, after giving orders to his men to resume 
 their march rejoined his friend. 
 
 M You were right, Commandant, that girl is no ordi- 
 nary creature ; her voice has a ring in it, such as I never 
 heard from any other woman in the world. I wonder 
 that you were able to answer her ; as for me, I should 
 have ignominiously fled." 
 
 "She hates me," murmured Pelven, "she hates me, 
 but what is infinitely worse, she despises me ! " 
 
 " That she does not love you is quite possible, Com- 
 mandant Herve^ but the contrary is possible also, as 
 you will allow me to suggest. But look at our guide 1 
 
OnOSTLY SIGHTS. 39 
 
 What on eauh does he mean, by crossing himself in 
 that frantic way on his arms ? " 
 
 " I don't. know ; some Breton superstition, probably," 
 answered Herve* ; and going toward his guide, the 
 Commandant heard him praying, and saw him raise his 
 rosary to his lips. Astonished at this sudden access of 
 devotion, the young man laid his hand gently on the 
 guide's shoulder, who turned with a start. 
 
 " Excuse me, friend," said Pelven, " but this road is 
 a difficult one, and we require all your assistance. 
 The moment is not well selected for your prayers." 
 
 " It is not becoming in the sons of those who lie 
 over there," answered the Breton, gravely, pointing to 
 the chateau, u to say that it is not well to pray, when 
 one comes through the valley of the Groac'h." 
 
 4 ' You know, Kado, that I never lived in this country, 
 and I know nothing of this valley, whose very name in 
 fact, I hear for the first time." 
 
 " It is a bad thing, master," said the guard, with 
 solemn emphasis, "when the bird wanders from the 
 thicket where his father and mother sang, as they 
 builded their nest." 
 
 " Kado," interrupted Hervd, with some austerity ; 
 " we have always been friends, do not compel me to 
 forget this. I ask you now, if any especial danger 
 appertains to this valley, that you make use of all your 
 conjurations." 
 
 u This valley is haunted," sai<* Kado. in a whisper, 
 pressing his rosary fervently to lim lips. 
 
40 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 "Why didn't you take another road, then? Youi 
 flight was unnecessary." 
 
 wi I am not afraid," answered the Breton. " I have 
 come through this valley alone, and at midnight, more 
 than once without fear. My conscience is clear, and 
 the stones never dance before my eyes. Let me pray 
 Monsieur Herve, for I am not praying for myself." 
 
 " For whom then, Kado ? For what terrible criminal 
 are you so anxious ? " 
 
 This question was uttered in a tone of anger, and of 
 menace, but did not in the least disturb the serenity of 
 th ) guide, who answered half sadly. 
 
 " I am praying, sir, for those who have learned to 
 threaten those of this district, who have learned to 
 threaten those, who held them when tiny children, on 
 their knees." 
 
 This appeal to cherished memories, uttered by this 
 well-known voice, brought down the haughty pride of 
 the youth. He was touched by the reproach of this 
 rude peasant, whose honest nature he thoroughly 
 understood, although he had rebelled against the words 
 uttered by Bellah. 
 
 "You are right, Kado," he said, "it is a disastrous 
 season, when children of the same households, become 
 as strangers, or as enemies. But whose fault is it? 
 You are clear-headed and honest-hearted; and I am 
 sure cannot believe that I have relinquished so much 
 that is dear to me, without being drawn away by some 
 new duty of which God has made a law for me." 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 41 
 
 " There are no new duties," answered Kado, senten- 
 tiously ; " that which was right for your father, is right 
 for you I The truth never changes." 
 
 " And yet," said Herve\ " I have heard you, yourself, 
 tell how in early days, the people of Brittany prayed 
 to the stones like Pagans." 
 
 44 Yes, that is true, master." 
 
 " Well, this was truth to them. Then when the 
 Christian religion was known, the first who renounced 
 the false gods to follow the new law, were called infidels 
 and traitors. To them were given the same names 
 which to-day you give to me and to them was said 
 what you have just said, ' truth never changes,' and yet 
 it has changed, as you must admit." 
 
 " The law of the Gospel is good," said the Breton, 
 shaking his head ; " ' it never requires men to rob and 
 kill their brothers ! ' " 
 
 ** It requires them," answered Herve*, energetically, 
 " to treat each other like children of the same blood, 
 like creatures of the same day, and it is because there 
 are men who have wilfully forgotten this law Avho, 
 believing themselves to be superior to their brothers, 
 oppress and despise them, and make it necessary that 
 the cause of Truth and Justice, should be fought for." 
 
 " If I understand you, master," said the guide, who 
 had been listening with breathless attention to the 
 words of the young onier, " these men who think 
 themselves superior are the Seigneurs, the gentlemen, 
 but all your ancestors were Seigneurs; do you intend to 
 say, therefore, that your ancestors were ail criminals?" 
 
42 GHOSTLY SIGnTS. 
 
 " My ancestors, good friend, believed themselves to be 
 right, and lived up to their lights ; but God Almighty 
 has shown to us, that which He saw fit to vail from 
 them. I should have been deeply culpable, therefore, 
 had I consulted my interests, and adhered to the cus- 
 toms of my father, when their iniquity was shown to 
 me. They did their duty and I do mine." 
 
 " I never thought of that," answered Kado, thought- 
 fully. Then he added after a moment's silence, " I am 
 very ignorant, and I scarce know how to sign my name, 
 but I have thought a good deal always, of what I heard 
 talked of about me. Well, then, master, they say that 
 you don't wish people to be great or humble, rich or 
 poor, but desire all to be equal. Now I know very 
 well that this cannot be, the good God has made the 
 strong and the weak to some people he has given 
 brains, and to others, none some persons are lazy, 
 others industrious, how then, can you make them all 
 alike?" 
 
 ** We should be madmen, Kado, if we had any such 
 notion. Far from dreaming of changing anything that 
 God has made, we try so far as is possible, to follow 
 His example in what we do. Does your religion tell 
 you that God judges and condemns unborn children ? 
 No ; it does not, you say. Very well, then. He places 
 men on the earth with full liberty to do well, or to do 
 ill, and he waits before condemning them, until they 
 live out the life to which he called them. Just in 
 the same way, does our Republic refuse to condemn a 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 43 
 
 rfian to despair, merely on account of his birth. The 
 Republic allows all to exercise the gifts they ,iave 
 received from the Lord, and claim that all have an 
 equal right to serve and honor the Republic." 
 
 "This sounds very reasonable," said the Breton, 
 meditatively; "and more than reasonable, it sounds 
 right; but it is not in the least what we have been 
 told. I am obliged to you for talking to me. I knew 
 you, Monsieur Plerve*, when you were an infant. I 
 taught you to pull the trigger of the first gun you 
 handled you were a brave little fellow! Swallows 
 always fly away when the bad weather comes. I am 
 glad to know that you had a better reason for deserting 
 us, and my heart is less heavy now when I think of 
 you." 
 
 Kado walked on in silence, sadly, and with drooping 
 head. 
 
 " I am too old and that is the truth," he said, drearily. 
 " If I were younger, I should like to think out what 
 you have been saying ; but at my age you see, master, 
 if I should undertake to tear from my heart things and 
 people, that have been there always, I am sure it would 
 kill me. Now don't let us talk of it any more." 
 
 " Give me your hand, Kado," said Herve", and he 
 pressed, with warm cordiality, the hand trembling 
 with emotion, extended by the old guard. 
 
 As he turned away, Herve* saw that his young Aid 
 de-Camp was close at his side. 
 
 " What was that you were saying, Kado," he asked, 
 "about this valley of the Groac'h?" 
 
44 GHOSTLY SIGHtS. 
 
 kv I said it was haunted, master.** 
 k Haunted ! What on earth does he mean ? " asked 
 Francis. 
 
 I " It means, my dear boy, that old William, commonly 
 'called the Devil, holds his court in this valley, and that 
 you will probably see in the moonlight crowds of 
 faries, and korandons who are just like human beings, 
 except in size." 
 
 " Ah ! this is delicious ! " cried Francis, with a laugh. 
 
 A gesture and an exclamation from the guard, who 
 suddenly stood still, checked the young man. The 
 little party was two-thirds down the hill, and con- 
 tinued to wind slowly along the steep path, which was 
 in fact, little more than a staircase hewn in the rock. 
 Notwithstanding their confidence in their horses, who 
 bred in this mountainous region, were as sure footed as 
 the mules of the Spanish sierras, the women and even 
 the soldiers, gave all their attention to the difficulties 
 of the road, and preserved a profound silence. The 
 exclamation uttered by the guide, and his abrupt halt, 
 were heard therefore and commented upon, even by the 
 last of the column. 
 
 Kado stopped as we have said, and listened with 
 neck extended in the attitude of a man who is in 
 momentary expectation of his ears confirming some 
 terrible suspicion. 
 
 "What is it?" said Herve*, hastily, 
 
 "I was mistaken, for which I thank my Heavenly 
 Father," answered Kado, "for although I have never 
 seen the awful sight with my own eyes " 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 45 
 
 The guide started and interrupted himself, shudder 
 ing from head to foot with horror. 
 
 "Alas! "he murmured, "I was not mistaken, it is 
 they ! Listen, master ! " 
 
 Pelven, and all who followed, listened in their turn. 
 They distinctly heard a sound of blows struck at reg- 
 ular intervals, resembling the sounds of a hammer. 
 The noise seemed to come from several different points 
 of the valley. 
 
 "What the deuce is that noise ?" asked Francis; 
 "one would think that a lot of laundresses were at 
 work on their linen, by the side of a running stream." 
 
 " You are right, sir," said the guide, sadly, " they are 
 beating the linen of the dead." 
 
 He uncovered his head, raised his eyes to Heaven, 
 and began to pray in a low voice. 
 
 Herve' was in a most embarrassing position. He 
 realized the necessity of cutting short a scene which 
 might have a most disastrous effect on the spirits of the 
 women, and even on the soldiers, but he was unwilling 
 to say anything in ths least rough to the man with 
 whom he had just renewed the familiarity of his 
 boyhood. Amid his hesitation, he felt a light touch on 
 his arm. 
 
 "Brother," murmured Andrew's flute -like voice, 
 " you are going to scold me, but I assure you that I am 
 frightened out of my wits. They are the lavandiere* 
 de nuit, you kr.ow." 
 
 " I know nothing of the kind, goose ! " answered 
 
46 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 Herve*, with a laugh; then whispering in the guard's 
 ear, he said, " Go on, my good Kado, don't frighten my 
 sister by another word, I implore you." 
 
 Kado looked at the young man for a moment, as if 
 in doubt, and then, with a long sigh, resumed his 
 'march, telling his beads as he walked. Herv^ turned 
 to the soldiers. 
 
 "Come on, boys! " he cried, gayly: "it seems that 
 certain ci-devant laundresses are down there, but the 
 Republic, you know, never recognizes any such people : 
 en avant ! en avant ! " 
 
 " Commandant," answered Bruidoux, " Colibri wants 
 to give them some more work, by sending them his six 
 dozen of silk hose ! " 
 
 Reassured in regard to the moral state of his men, 
 by the laugh that greeted this sally, Commandant 
 Herve* moved on with more composure. Meanwhile 
 the sounds they had first heard from the valley became 
 more and more distinct as they crossed the meadows, 
 and became precisely like the peculiar beating of the 
 wooden baton on wet linen ; sometimes, too, they 
 caught the sharp sound made by the baton, as it struck 
 the uncovered stones. 
 
 "May I ask you, Commandant," said Francis, "what 
 species of animal, is the one you call a lavandieres ? " 
 
 " Lavandieres, Lieutenant, ire diabolical women who, 
 at midnight, wash the shrouds of the dead. It is said 
 that they ask any one who passes to help them 
 wring their linen. In this case, the only safety is to 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 47 
 
 comply with their request, but you must wring the 
 same way they do, or you are lost." 
 
 M Ah ! " said Francis, " I am infinitely obliged for 
 your advice. I am in earnest however, and would 
 really like to know, to what cause, you in your heart 
 attribute this extraordinary noise. The fog is sweep- 
 ing away, the moon is flooding the valley with its light, 
 and I don't see the smallest indication of an habitation." 
 
 " That is true, but you only see the merest corner of 
 the valley . from this point, because of that mass of 
 rocks which we must turn. A shepherd lad might 
 easily make the noise by beating one stone with a stick, 
 and then the echoes taking it up " 
 
 "But, my dear Commandant," interrupted Francis, 
 "twenty little shepherds could not make all that 
 noise ! " 
 
 " There may be some cascade there." 
 
 " No cascade ever sounded like that ! It is really 
 most extraordinary, and I begin to think I smell 
 sulphur, don't you Commandant?" 
 
 " Our ears play us strange tricks at night," answered 
 Herv6, replying rather to his own thoughts than to his 
 companion. " Do you believe in ghosts, Francis ? " 
 
 " I begin to do so, Commandant, and upon my life I 
 don't like this ! " 
 
 " Hush ! Don't say so aloud at all events. I, too, 
 was considerably disturbed, until I read the riddle. 
 This valley has a wonderful echo, and the noise made 
 by the hoofs of the horses, is repeated over and over 
 again." 
 
48 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 "Look there!" interrupted Francis. "Be they 
 washerwomen or devils, there they are ! " 
 
 The two officers had now reached the rocks which 
 had hitherto concealed a large portion of the valley. 
 Herve" turned to the point indicated by Francis, and 
 was stupefied to perceive, at a hundred paces off, a 
 group of women all in white. Some were stooping 
 over the water, others were spreading linen on the 
 scanty tufts of marsh grass. A cry of dismay and 
 startled exclamations, told Herve that both women and 
 soldiers, had seen this strange sight. 
 
 " Here, Colibri ! " cried Bruidoux, " now's the time 
 for you to take your silk hose from your trunk." 
 
 " Herve* ! " cried Andree*, throwing her arms around 
 her brother, " In the name of Heaven, who are those ? " 
 
 " Chouans, my dear ! I was warned that we should 
 find these gentlemen here. Stay where you are, and 
 fear nothing." 
 
 As he uttered this pious falsehood, invented on the 
 spur of the moment, in order to substitute a healthy 
 fear for the supernatural terror, which had assailed the 
 party, Herve noticed that the Canoness started and 
 turned a penetrating look upon him. This look once 
 more aroused his suspicions. He hurried toward 
 Francis, and said quickly, 
 
 " Look at the Canoness, she is not in the smallest 
 degree disturbed, it is some snare." 
 
 " So much the better," replied the youth, drawing a 
 long breath of relief, but as the young men turned 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 40 
 
 to look toward the valley, they saw that the white 
 forms continued at their task, without showing any 
 knowledge of the presence of the Republican detach- 
 ment. The soldiers were evidently growing very 
 uneasy. 
 
 " This must cease," murmured Herve\ " Boys we 
 must make them fold their linen ! You, ladies, must 
 remain behind these rocks, while my men make their 
 charge." 
 
 The click of their fire-arms was heard, as the soldiers, 
 headed by their officers, moved over the wet soil of the 
 valley. 
 
 As they approached the white figures, it seemed to 
 the soldiers that they increased in height and size until 
 their proportions became positively supernatural. They 
 were not now forty feet off, when all at once the 
 strange apparitions formed a circle, and began to dance 
 to the accompaniment of a low buzzing sound like that 
 heard about a huge bee-hive. 
 
 Herve* cried " Halt ! " Then addressing the phan- 
 toms, after a brief silence, he said, "I warn you, 
 whomsoever you may be, that I do not wish to run 
 the risk of one of my men being injured in this silly 
 skirmish. Surrender or I fire ! " 
 
 The lavandilres continued their mysterious move- 
 ments, quite undisturbed. 
 
 " Fire ! " said Herve\ 
 
 As soon as the smoke was a little dissipated, and 
 the soldiers were able to ascertain the result of the 
 4 
 
50 GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 
 
 discharge they shouted with laughter, for all the 
 actors iu this fantastic ballet lay motionless on the 
 turf, like bales of cotton. 
 
 " That will teach them," muttered Bruidoux, " to 
 dance their unholy dances by moonlight again." 
 
 Meanwhile Herve* ordered the guns to be reloaded, 
 and led his men quickly on. All at once the whole 
 of the figures started up and rushed across the plain 
 with every indication of life. 
 
 " Come on, Francis," cried Herve", pricking his spurs 
 into his horse, "and you, my men, follow on ! " 
 
 Unfortunately the soil was very heavy, and the 
 horses stumbled over obstacles, which the phantoms 
 were able to avoid, either through instinct, or by a 
 knowledge of the locality. The soldiers, following 
 with shouts and cries, imprecations and laughter, 
 imparted a sabbat-like aspect to the haunted valley. 
 
 The lavandieres having reached the extremity of tie 
 valley, began to climb the hill on which stood the 
 feudal ruin. Herve^ and Francis redoubled their efforts, 
 and presently enjoyed the pleasure of hearing the feet 
 of their horses sound on the harder soil of the hill. 
 Pelven went a few steps beyond. 
 
 " Commandant," cried Francis, " wait for me ! " And 
 seeing that Herve" pushed on, without heeding him, he 
 continued : 
 
 " Look out ! You may fall into some trap ! There 
 may be a hundred Chouans up there ! " 
 
 "If there are a thousand, and the devil himself a$ 
 
GHOSTLY SIGHTS. 51 
 
 their head," answered Hei-ve* wrathfully, " I swear I 
 tfill do my best to kill one ! " 
 
 When the young Commandant reached the top of 
 the hill, he uttered a cry of triumph at finding himself 
 within a pistol shot of the lavandieres. The fugitives, 
 hotly pursued, fled with the greatest speed to the ruins, 
 but Francis, forseeing this manoeuvre, had quietly 
 taken measures to cut them off, so that the phantoms 
 were between the two officers. Herve* saw them dis- 
 appear behind a ruined wall, but to his great surprise 
 did not see them again on the other side. Francis 
 was dumbfounded. "They have hidden there," he 
 cried. The two young officers spurred on their horses 
 until they reached this isolated wall. Every trace of 
 the lavandieres had disappeared, they dismounted and 
 kneeling on the ground, examined the soil, and turned 
 over every stone, but could discover nothing which 
 would explain to their satisfaction, the meaning of this 
 strange occurrence. 
 
62 TREACHERY. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 TREACHERY. 
 
 "TTPON my life," said Herve*, as he remounted, "1 
 
 U shall regret as long as I live, my inability to 
 turn this comedy into a tragedy. But I can't afford to 
 risk the lives of my men, by making further attempts 
 now. It is clear that these people have some issue 
 which we cannot discover." 
 
 " All right ! Commandant, but how the Canoness 
 must be laughing in her sleeve ! " 
 
 44 Let her laugh, our turn will come ! Silence ! I hear 
 our men." 
 
 The soldiers were running, all breathless and covered 
 with mud. On seeing their officers, they uttered a 
 shout of joy, and crowded around them with eager curi- 
 osity. Herve" told them that the Chouans had had 
 time to disappear down the other side of the hill before 
 he reached the plateau, and even went so far, as to 
 point out a clump of trees where he said they were. 
 
 As the questions to which he was obliged to reply, 
 began to embarrass him, he was relieved by the appear- 
 ance of the women and the guide. Andree threw 
 herself into her brother's arms, who soothed her with 
 a repetition of the fable he had invented. Then 
 leaving a sentinel at the wall, with directions to 
 
TREACHERY. 53 
 
 Watch the grove in the distance, he led the way to the 
 chateau, his sister at his side. 
 
 44 My child," said Herve^ snatching a moment when 
 the Canoness could not hear him, 44 have you really any 
 love in your heart for me ? " 
 
 44 Love for you ? Herve*, my dear brother, what do 
 you mean? You know I love you with my whole 
 heart!" 
 
 44 Thank you, dear Andree*, your words console me 
 greatly, for I began to fear." 
 
 44 Fear what ? " 
 
 44 That my sister, was an accomplice in some enter- 
 prise against my honor as a man and a soldier." 
 
 44 Your honor, Herve* ? Is not that a word, in regard 
 tc the meaning of which we might disagree ? " 
 
 44 Permit me to explain myself clearly," said Herve*, 
 with .some severity. 44 My honor consists, in serving 
 unto death, the colors you see here and it is my duty 
 to inform you, Andree", that any and every project 
 intended to make me fall short of the aim I have set 
 before me, will result in the confusion and destruction 
 of those who conceive it." 
 
 44 In Heaven's name, brother," said Andree*, looking 
 at Herve* with that air of astonishment which is often 
 a trick even with the youngest of women, "what sus- 
 picion can you have of me?" 
 
 44 None of you, in particular, but the scene that has 
 just taken place is not, I fancy, as inexplicable to the 
 other ladies as yourself, and I fear that it is but the 
 
54 TREACHERY. 
 
 prelude of other tricks less harmless, and this is the 
 reason why I repeat to you, that I am incapable of pre- 
 ferring life, to the honor of dying with my soldiers." 
 
 Hearing these words, which so clearly revealed 
 Ilerve's apprehensions, the young girl uttered a pro- 
 found sigh. 
 
 " Heaven be praised ! " she said eagerly. " I know 
 that neither you nor your men run any greater danger 
 in this journey than we do ! " and then placing her lips 
 close to her brother's ear she murmured, "you know 
 very well that there are two persons here who would 
 not be likely to allow you to come to harm. v 
 
 With this ingenious drop of opium in the ear of her 
 suspicious brother, Andrei ran gayly on, until she 
 reached the hall of the deserted manor. 
 
 The large irregularly built edifice, called by the 
 peasantry, the " Chateau de la Groac'h," bore the 
 imprint of the various ages which had passed over its 
 head. The principal portion of the ruin, was of the 
 imposing character of the twelfth century, other parts 
 were older still, while one whole wing went no farther 
 back, than to the last days of the Valois. This part of 
 the building was still habitable, having windows and 
 some few other indications of civilization. 
 
 It was here that Mademoiselle de Pelven joined 
 Bellah and the Canoness. They were traversing the 
 dilapidated rooms, guided by Kado, eager to select 
 two which would afford them the most secure shelter 
 for the night, then Kado served the ladies with the 
 
TREACHERY. 55 
 
 provisions which they had themselves prepared in the 
 last village they had come through. The meal was 
 brief and silent. Andree* and Bellah speedily departed 
 to the room assigned to them, the Canoness shared 
 hers with Alix, and the Scotch woman took possession 
 of a tiny orator}'' in a tower. Several camp beds had 
 been sent on in advance, through Kado's thoughtful- 
 ness, he having been allowed to make all the practical 
 arrangements of the expedition. 
 
 When Bellah and Andrei were alone in their great 
 room, lighted only by one night taper, they sank on 
 their knees as by one impulse, and began to pray. 
 Andree* was the first to rise, and going to a window, 
 she looked down with interest on the scene below. 
 The soldiers had lighted fires here and there, and their 
 light flashed at intervals through the mutilated ogives. 
 On the turfy slope in front of the manor, Commandant 
 Herve was walking alone ; busy, probably, in turning 
 over and over in his mind, with all a lover's anxious 
 childishness, the last words uttered by his sister. Sud- 
 denly he stood still, and looked up to the window at 
 which the young girl was standing. She drew back 
 hastily and began to pace the room with evident agita- 
 tion, twisting and knotting her handkerchief nervously, 
 as she moved. As Bellah rose from her knees she 
 noticed Andrew's flushed cheeks, and said anxiously. 
 
 " What is the matter, dear sister ? " 
 
 Andree made no reply, but thrust aside the detaining 
 hand and continued her troubled walk. 
 
66 TREACHERY. 
 
 "Are you displeased with me?" said Bellah, "and 
 for what?" 
 
 "Listen," said Andree*, stopping short and coming up 
 to her, " this cannot last. I can not sleep a wink 
 to-night." 
 
 "Are you really as much afraid as all that? But 
 .sweet one, am I not with you ? Your noble ancestors 
 would take no pleasure in terrifying us. Besides, we 
 have a light that will burn all night, and spirits you 
 know " 
 
 " Spirits ! What do I care for them ! " returned 
 Andree*, with a little snap of her fingers. " I am not 
 in the least afraid of my ancestors, nor do I care a sou 
 about them. I only wish I had never had any ! " 
 
 At this impulsive reply, Mademoiselle de Kergant 
 raised her eyes to Heaven with a supplicating expres- 
 sion quite usual with her, and then said: " But in that 
 case, why should you not sleep, and allow me to do the 
 same ? " 
 
 " I don't know," answered Andree*. 
 
 Mademoiselle Kergant sighed, gave a slight shrug of 
 her shoulders, and answered gently, 
 
 " Nor do I, my dear ! " 
 
 " Your aunt is an old dragon ! " cried Andrei. 
 
 " My dear sister ! " 
 
 " And you are another, Bellah ! " 
 
 " Upon my word," said Mademoiselle de Kergant, 
 again raising her eyes to Heaven, with an expression 
 quite worthy of herself. 
 
TREACHERY. 57 
 
 Andree* lost all patience. 
 
 "You never once thought," she cried, "of inviting 
 my brother to breakfast witk his sister! No, you left 
 him at the door, as if he had been a dog, my poor, dear 
 boy ! How mistaken we were ! I really expected im 
 better from your aunt, but from you ! when you 
 know, too, how Herve loves you." 
 
 The passionate child hesitated a little, as she uttered 
 the last two words and turned away as if afraid to 
 meet the eyes of her companion. 
 
 U I know," said Bellah, slowly, and with infinite 
 pathos in her voice, " that Hervd, is the brother of the 
 dearest and truest friend I have in the world, and it is 
 because I know this, Andree, that I have done violence 
 to my sentiments, and have not received him as a 
 stranger, although I knew him to be an apostate, 
 unworthy the name he bears ! " 
 
 " Precisely ! " cried Andrei, " and you would forget 
 the ten years of affection in this way ! Let me pass I 
 The apostate shall know, that he is not the only traitor 
 here. Let me pass, I say ! " 
 
 " Andree*," answered Mademoiselle de Kergant, " you 
 surely will not do that ? " 
 
 " Certainly I will," Andree* replied with compressed 
 lips, "you have made me blush for my brother you 
 shall blush before him." 
 
 Bellah snatched Andrew's robe in terror, and falling 
 almost on her knees before her: 
 
 "In heaven's name, dear Andree*, do not go to him 
 now ! Wait and think." 
 
58 TREACHERY. 
 
 " No, no. You have been pitiless ; I will be so in 
 my turn," answered the girl, half wildly. " Let me 
 go, I say ! " 
 
 She rushed to the door. Bellah rose to her feet, and 
 stood motionless ; she was white and cold as marble ; 
 her eyes flashed fire, and her nostrils dilated. She 
 raised her right hand, with a truly royal gesture, and 
 in a tone of great solemnity, said : 
 
 " Andree* de Pelven, is this the hospitality which you 
 offer ns under your ancestral roof? This place, thanks 
 to you, will indeed be accursed after this. But since 
 you are in earnest, and this misfortune is unavoidable, 
 I will spare your lips the shame of this confession, and 
 you will see if I blush in calliug martyrdom upon my 
 head ! " 
 
 The young enthusiast, with lips still trembling, 
 advanced with dignity, toward the door, against which 
 Andree* was standing, with dilated eyes. As Bellah 
 touched her to move her gently aside, the poor child 
 shivered from head to foot, turned deadly pale and 
 glided slowly to the ground. Bellah dropped on her 
 knees, lifted her friend's head in her arms, and as 
 she covered with kisses, the brow and hair of the fragile 
 creature, murmured : 
 
 " Holy virgin ! what have I done ? Andree* ! Sweet 
 sister ! Ah ! help her, dear Heaven ! Poor child it is 
 Bellah nothing has happened. Look up, sweet. I 
 will do just as you wish, only speak to me, little 
 sister ! " 
 
TREACHEKY. 69 
 
 Andrei returned slowly to life, under this rain of 
 caresses. She opened her eyes, smiled like a child 
 awakening from sleep, and said faintly: 
 
 u Admit that you love him a little ! " 
 
 "She is still dreaming," murmured Bellah. "You 
 feel better, dear, do you not?" 
 
 " Yes ; I feel better if you love him but I am very 
 much worse, if you do not love him," answered Andree*. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " murmured Bellah. 
 
 " Your heaven will be his heaven your will his law, 
 whenever you say the word." Then suddenly throw- 
 ing her arms around her friend's neck, Andree* cried : 
 
 " Listen to me ! I don't ask you to shout to him 
 from the window, ' Commandant, I adore you ! ' but 
 you owe him something, after all he has suffered. You 
 must give him something what shall it be ? " 
 
 " Nothing at all." 
 
 "Ah, I have it ! " and the girl snatched the white 
 feather from Bellah's hat ; " what a triumph it will be, 
 ma belle, to compel a Republican officer to wear the 
 colors of the King." 
 
 This adroit compromise was not much to the taste 
 of Mademoiselle de Kergant. She darted forward to 
 take possession of the feather, which her adopted sister 
 was about to put to such treacherous use, but Andree*, 
 always quicker in her movements, than her friend, had 
 already opened the window, and Bellah reached her side 
 just in time to add, by her presence, a more precious 
 significance to the token, now fluttering over Con? 
 
60 TftEACBERY. 
 
 niandant llerve's head. Andree* laughed in gay 
 delight, while Mademoiselle de Kergant withdrew 
 precipitately from the window, and shrugged her 
 shoulders with an air of offended dignity. 
 
 It seemed as if the dainty projectile, falling to the 
 feet of the Commandant, was endowed with some fairy 
 power, for the young man, on seeing it, seemed to 
 have taken root, and stood motionless. He felt that 
 he was being watched from the window, and was in a 
 most uncomfortable state of mind, as he dared not leave 
 the feather where it had fallen, nor yet did he dare to 
 pick it up. If he did so with the eagerness of a lover, 
 he felt that he would be mercilessly ridiculed, as it was 
 more than likely, to be some freak of Andrew's. If, on 
 the contrary, he turned away indifferently, did he not 
 run the risk of gravely offending her, from whom this 
 discreet message came, as he in the bottom of his heart 
 fondly hoped. Tossed between these conflicting doubts 
 and impulses, Herve* finally resolved on a medium 
 course. He stooped and picked up the little feather 
 delicately and slowly, with the tips of his fingers, not 
 with the smallest eagerness, but with the air of a man, 
 who has found something that has awakened his curi- 
 osity. He then walked on examining his trouvaille, 
 with a certain nonchalance, as if he were saying to 
 himself: " The deuce take it ! Is 'this an ostrich plume ? 
 Is it common to find them in this part of the world ? " 
 
 But as soon as the young man found himself shel- 
 
TREACHERY. 61 
 
 tered behind a wall from all curious eyes, his counte- 
 nance changed, and he eagerly pressed the plume to his 
 lips. Then with a smile at his own weakness, he tore 
 open a button in his uniform, and folding the feather, 
 laid it away as a relic against his heart. After hiding 
 his treasure, with a guilty expression on his face, the 
 young Commandant, seeing that repose and silence 
 appeared to reign in the room occupied by the young 
 ladies, as well as in all other parts of the ruin, now 
 went toward the steps, to seek the wide hall in which 
 Francis had found shelter. On the upper steps Herve* 
 turned, and, as a last cautionary measure, looked 
 toward the isolated bit of wall, behind which the 
 lavandieres had disappeared in so extraordinary a way. 
 Herve" had himself selected the soldier, who was to 
 replace the first sentinel. This was a young grenadier 
 named Robert, whose courage and intelligence he 
 thoroughly knew. Robert was not at his post, but 
 just where he should have stood, he saw something 
 white fluttering, as if some one was anxious to attract 
 his attention. 
 
 Herve" hastily descended the steps, and went toward 
 the wall. When he was not more than ten feet off, he 
 distinguished the sentinel, who at once removed the 
 handkerchief which he had placed at the end of his 
 bayonet, and contented himself with a gesture of the 
 hand, which implied an entreaty for greater haste, and 
 absolute caution. 
 
62 TREACHERY. 
 
 Two seconds later, Herve* was close to the vail and 
 face to face with the soldier. 
 
 " Well, Robert," he said, in a low voice, after a hasty 
 glance around to see that there was no danger of being 
 overheard, " what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Just this, Commandant," answered the soldier, in a 
 low whisper ; " you are betrayed ! " 
 
 " Betrayed ! And how ! By whom ? Speak I " 
 cried Herve*. 
 
 "Hush! Commandant speak low. This is all I 
 know : I was walking up and down peaceably enough, 
 with my eyes on that little grove over there, when sud- 
 denly I heard, behind me or under me, I couldn't say 
 which, a great clamor of voices. I like to know all 
 that is going on, you know, so I looked about a little, 
 and finally " 
 
 The soldier stopped, a look of terror passed over Li3 
 face, and Herve* saw him stagger and fall heavily to 
 the ground. At the same moment he heard a shot, and 
 felt a blow on his head, and he, too, fell b} the side of 
 the sentry. 
 
 Then a tall, athletic man, who had committed this 
 double act of violence, with such cruel success, left the 
 shelter of the wall, from whence he seemed to have 
 emerged, and examined the chateau with curious eyes. 
 At the same moment an individual. of more delicate 
 proportions leaned over the inanimate body of the 
 Republican Commandant, ajjd examined the wound od 
 bis head* 
 
Treachery. 63 
 
 " He is not seriously hurt," he said, in a singularly 
 rich, sweet voice. 
 
 "The shot has been heard, and they will all be here 
 in a moment," answered the other. " We had hslter 
 be off." 
 
 As he uttered these words, he, followed by Lis com 
 panion, passed through an opening at the base of the 
 wall, which at once closed upon them, and left not the 
 smallest clue. 
 
64 THK CANONESS SUSPECTED, 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE CANONESS SUSPECTED. 
 
 AT the noise of the report, all the soldiers, guided 
 by Francis, rushed toward the place whence this 
 signal of alarm had come. The young Lieutenant 
 uttered an agonized exclamation, on seeing the inani- 
 mate body of his friend ; but his despair was calmed 
 when, by the light of a torch, he failed to discover any 
 wound. 
 
 "The hand that struck that blow was a stalwart 
 one," said Bruidoux, examining the Commandant's hat, 
 which bore the marks of a tremendous concussion. 
 "We ought to be thankful, that he, whoever he was, 
 spared the life of our Commandant, and did not shed 
 his blood. ,, 
 
 " But, sir, I am not sure that he has done so ; I don't 
 know what this is under my feet, but " 
 
 " Good heavens ! " cried Francis, dropping on his 
 knees by Herve"s side, "can it be possible. , This is 
 horrible ! " 
 
 " Horrible, indeed," answered Bruidoux, in a scared 
 sort of way ; " but the wounded man, or rather the 
 dead man, lies here. Yes ; he has mounted guard for 
 the last time, poor fellow." 
 
 As he spoke, the Sergeant, aided by the soldiers, 
 
THE CANON ESS SUSPECTED. 65 
 
 fried to lift Robert's body, which had been partially 
 concealed by a pile of stones near which it lay. 
 
 "Dead! Are you sure he is dead, Bruidoux ? Is 
 there really nothing we can do ? " 
 
 "Nothing, except pray for him. The ball has chosen 
 the best place, like a true aristocrat, and has lodged in 
 his heart. It is a pity," continued Bruidoux, address- 
 ing the soldiers, "that a tiny bit of lead, fired by a 
 miserable coward, can wipe a brave man off the face of 
 the earth ! I would give my left eye, for a brief inter- 
 view with the lavandiere who pulled that trigger. But, 
 citizens, this will never do ; our old comrade must not 
 be left lying here. He must have his six foot bed, just 
 as much as if he had been born a peer and a duke, 
 under the ancient regime. I loved this boy, my chil- 
 dren ! He was a brave fellow. He hadn't the stuff in 
 him, any more than myself, for a general in chief, but 
 around our camp fire, and as we stood in a line in 
 front of the enemy, he was invaluable. Hem ! hem ! 
 Citizens, a tear may fall on a gray moustache, without 
 dishonoring it, I am sure. Poor Robert ! " and Brui- 
 doux passed his sleeve over his eyes. 
 
 The solemnity of the place and the hour, the presence 
 of the body, to whose features the torchlight imparted 
 a fantastic semblance of life, and the respect the soldiers 
 felt for the orator, imparted great effect to this funeral 
 oration. The grenadiers around Bruidoux, gave little 
 nods of satisfaction, as if to say that no soldier could 
 desire a warmer champion than their old Sergeant. 
 5 
 
66 THE CANONESS SUSPECTED. 
 
 All this time Francis was doing his best to recall hia 
 friend to life, but Herve* was not yet able to reply to 
 the young lieutenant's eager questions. 
 
 Several of the men, now proceeded to dig with their 
 swords a grave, in which they placed the remains of 
 their dead comrade. Others, making a litter of their 
 guns, started to bear the Commandant to the chateau. 
 They had gone a little more than half way, when 
 another shot caused them to stop. Herv^ tried to rise, 
 but fell back exhausted by the effort. Francis, leaving 
 two soldiers with the litter, dashed with the rest of the 
 men in the direction of the donjon, whence came to all 
 appearance, the sound of the report. 
 
 The sentinel placed at this corner of the ruin, was 
 found at his post reloading his gun. Questioned by 
 Francis as to why he had fired, he stated that he had 
 seen a procession of black and white phantoms emerge 
 from the base of the acclivity on which the donjon 
 stood. That after he had called out, "Who goes 
 there ? " and had received no reply, he fired ; and 
 here the soldier showed considerable emotion, as ae 
 said : " The earth seemed to open and swallow them, 
 for they all disappeared at once." A thick fog rising 
 from a stream running at the foot of the hill, was to 
 Francis a natural explanation of this new disappear- 
 ance of their enemies. He could not restrain an 
 exclamation of angry disappointment; then with a 
 command to the sentinel, not to relax his vigilance for 
 one single moment, he an back to the Commandant, 
 
THE 3AN0NESS SUSPECTED. 67 
 
 who by this Lme had recovered, and came to meet him. 
 The two young men exchanged accounts of what had 
 taken place, after bidding their men return to their 
 rest. 
 
 "I am quite sure," said Hervd, "that my sister 
 knows nothing of all this ; for she assured me this very 
 evening, that so far as she knew, we were in no sort of 
 danger, and she is incapable of a falsehood. I am in- 
 clined to believe, that we have merely fallen upon a 
 band of Chouans in retreat, and that we have inter- 
 fered with them. But of course we can't pursue them 
 in this fog." 
 
 "Did you gather from Robert, that there was 
 some understanding between these travellers, and the 
 mysterious enemies ? " 
 
 " He did not say so precisely not in so many words, 
 but he implied it. I have no confidence myself in the 
 Canoness, but my sister must be herself -deceived." 
 
 " I would swear to that ! " cried Francis. 
 
 "I must try and sleep," said Herve\ "My head 
 gives me a good deal of pain, and I feel the need of 
 repose." 
 
 The two young men separated, after agreeing to con- 
 ceal from the women, including Andrei, all the events 
 of the night, from a natural unwillingness to give some 
 of the party, a cl ance to triumph, and to spare Andree 
 anxiety. 
 
 As Francis, after leaving the Commandant, passed 
 the front of the house, he noticed with surprise the 
 
68 TUE CANONESS SUSPECTED. 
 
 absolute calm which continued to reign there. That the 
 shots and the subsequent uproar had not awakened the 
 young girls, was one of the sweet privileges of their 
 age ; but neither the Canoness nor Kado could claim 
 so agreeable an excuse. This silence and imperturba- 
 bility, confirmed the vague suspicions of the young 
 Lieutenant, and inspired him with an idea of vengeance 
 which delighted him as much as if he had been a school- 
 boy. He stooped and picked up a handful of stones, and 
 satisfying himself that no one was watching him, he 
 hurled these stones into the window of the Canoness, 
 after which he hid himself behind a wall, laughing 
 softly. 
 
 At the sound of the broken glass several soldiers, 
 scattered here and there, lifted their heads anxiously, 
 but the profound silence that ensued, caused them to 
 regard the sounds as one of the strange disturbances 
 of the evening, and they soon relapsed into silence and 
 slumber. 
 
 At the same moment, Francis saw a shadow cautiously 
 approach the window, and recognized the sharp features 
 of the Canoness. Francis, pitiless as is youth, usually, 
 stooped for another stone, but the old lady, guided by 
 some guardian angel, withdrew, and the second missile 
 was not thrown. 
 
 About three hours later, all the soldiers were moving 
 about, swinging their benumbed arms, and stamping 
 their chilled feet on the ground. Kado was saddling 
 the horsey with Ms customary gravity, while Hei've* uad 
 
flHfc CAtfOttESS St?sCft>. 6t 
 
 Francis, a little apart, were engaged in some serious 
 discussion. Sergeant Bruidoux took his pipe from his 
 mouth, and respectfully approached the young officers, 
 lie touched his finger to his hat. 
 
 " Liberty and Fraternity, citizens ! " he said. " You 
 Jpok as fresh as a lark this morning, Commandant. I 
 am delighted to find that you have suffered ho incon- 
 venience from that terrible blow. Now, citizens, do 
 you think it advisable, that we should leave this place 
 without finding out its secrets? " 
 
 " That is just what I was saying to the Lieutenant," 
 Herve* replied. " I think we ought, now that we have 
 daylight in our favor, hunt up the mystery of our 
 lavandieres" 
 
 " I am willing," cried Francis, " only we must keep 
 together. You must not run the risk again of being 
 taken in a snare." 
 
 "But why the deuce do you talk about a snare? " 
 answered 'Herve*. " Haven't they left the door wide 
 open at the base of the donjon. If it be a snare, it is a 
 most daring one." Light a torch for me, Bruidoux. I 
 do not choose, Lieutenant, that one of the men shall 
 risk a hair in this affair. It is enough, more than 
 enough, that it has cost Robert's death. 
 
 "Permit me, citizens, to make a suggestion," said 
 Bruidoux, returning with a lighted torch in one hand 
 and two others under his arm. "Let us three go 
 together." 
 
 Herve\ notwithstanding his strong desire to visit this 
 
70 THE CAKONESS SUSPECTED. 
 
 subterranean retreat alone, yielded to this arrangement 
 The three then passing the donjon descended with 
 difficulty, the abrupt cliff which formed its base, assist- 
 ing themselves by the stunted trees growing here 
 and there between the rocks ; they soon reached a 
 little door at the foot of the ravine, seen from above 
 by Commandant Herve*, but which was arranged 
 in such a way, that it could not be detected 
 from any other position. This door gave access to a 
 narrow, dark cavern. Herve^ a torch in his hand, 
 entered first, stooping as he did so, and was closely 
 followed by his two companions. At the end of a few 
 feet, this narrow passage opened into a large vaulted 
 chamber, to which arches, still perfect, imparted a 
 character of sombre magnificence. Torches lay smoking 
 on the damp soil, and were the only indication, that 
 human beings had been recently near the spot. The 
 principal cave communicated by archways with smaller 
 rooms, through all of which, the two young men and 
 the Sergeant, continued their search. Herve* turned 
 his attention more particularly to the portion of this 
 subterranean place, which corresponded with that wing 
 of the manor which had been occupied by the Canoness 
 during the night. In the corner of a smaller cavern, 
 the red light of his torch suddenly fell on a staircase, 
 which he hastily climbed, but on arriving at the top he 
 found that the last five or six stairs had been broken 
 away, and lay piled on the lower steps, thus leaving a 
 space which it was impossible for him to surmount. 
 
THE CANONESS SUSPECTED. 71 
 
 After a minute examination of the debris, Herv* 
 became convinced that they dated only from the night, 
 and his suspicions of the politic Canoness, were strengl li- 
 ened by this discovery. A visit to the apartment 
 occupied by the old lady, would have settled the point 
 in question, but his education had been such, that it 
 would have been impossible for him to be guilty of 
 such an intrusion. 
 
 Herve* joined the young aide-de-camp just as the 
 youth had his hand on an enormous bolt fasten- 
 ing a low, wide door. The united efforts of the two 
 young men were required before the bolt would move. 
 At last the door dropped like a draw-bridge, and day- 
 light poured into the cave. They at once recognized 
 the fact, that chance had led them to the mysterious 
 opening which the evening before had swallowed up 
 the lavandieres in such an apropos manner, and which, 
 later, had given egress to Robert's murderer. The 
 door was formed of oak planks, covered within with 
 iron plates, and disguised outside with light masonry, 
 which made it look precisely like the rest of the wall. 
 The young men profited by this door, to leave the cave, 
 but as they placed their feet on terra firma, they heard 
 loud shouts from the cavern, and, rushing backward, 
 they met Bruidoux, dragging by the ear a captive of a 
 most unexpected species. 
 
 Hearing the shouts of the old Sergeant, the soldiers, 
 Kado, and the valiant group of emigree*S all ran toward 
 the wall ; the prisoner, amid this curious circle, stood 
 
72 THE CANONESS SUSTECTED. 
 
 rubbing his eyes, as if dazzled by the sudden sunlight 
 He was a child, certainly not more than ten years of 
 ago, with blue eyes and a gentle charming face. His 
 black hair cut square across his brow lay on his 
 shoulders behind; he wore a long coat of some brown, 
 woolen material, and puffed breeches. 
 
 At the first glance, Herve recognized this child, and 
 then turned a reproachful look on Kado, to which the 
 guide replied, by an almost imperceptible sign, express- 
 ing volumes of regret and pain. The women, at the 
 same time, exchanged stealthy glances of fear and 
 confusion. 
 
 " This boy, Commandant, belongs to the lavandieres 
 of course. His mamma must have forgotten him. I 
 spoke to him w r ith all the politeness in the world, but 
 the fellow seemed to be a stranger to the manners and 
 customs of a salon, and was as mute as a fish/' While 
 the Sergeant was speaking, the child was looking 
 around with astonished eyes, then folding his arms 
 behind his back, he said, with a naivete, most perfectly 
 acted, if it w T ere not sincere: " Oh ! what fine gentle- 
 men and what beautiful ladies! Good morning all! 
 What are such people as you, doing in this wild 
 country ? " 
 
 " What are you doing here yourself, you rascal ? ' 
 cried Bruidoux ; " upon my life I should not be sur 
 prised if you asked us for our papers ! " 
 
 The last doubts that Heive* had cherished as to the 
 duplicity with which he was treated, vanished at the sight 
 
THE CANONESS SUSPECTED. 73 
 
 of the well-known features of this child, but he was so 
 touched by the anguish he read on Kado's pale con- 
 tracted features, that he was deterred from profiting by 
 his discovery. 
 
 k * My little friend," he said to the child, " you are 
 too intelligent looking, to play with any success, the 
 part you have adopted. You are not under witted, as 
 3'ou would have us believe, and you had best tell us 
 the truth without reservation, or your tender years 
 will not save you from the punishment you deserve. 
 You have passed the night with people, whom we have 
 more than one reason for regarding as enemies." 
 
 "I should say so," muttered Bruidoux, "when a fist 
 like " 
 
 " Silence, Sergeant," said Herve". " Come now, my 
 child, who brought you here ? " 
 
 " It was La Groac'h," said the boy, " La Groac'h of 
 the valley." 
 
 " La Groac'h," interrupted Bruidoux, " was it La 
 Groac'h that drew the trigger?" 
 
 M Citizen Sergeant," said Herve* with considerable 
 energy, "let us not pursue this farce, it is a mere waste 
 of time. Search him at once. This child has been 
 sacrificed by older persons, and shall pay the penalty of 
 their crimes." 
 
 " Go ahead," said the boy, laughing, " the Fairy will 
 look out for me. Between ourselves, gentlemen, I will 
 confess to you that she is my wife." 
 
 " And this was her wedding present I presume," said 
 
74 THE CANOXESS SUSPECTED. 
 
 Bruidoux grimly, as he took from the pocket of the 
 youthful prisoner, a top and ball of cord. " You would 
 have shown more sense, my lad, had you contented your- 
 self with this amusement, which, as you know, citizens, 
 is not a potentate's diversion, but a joy to the masses." 
 
 As he talked the old Sergeant wound the cord evenly 
 about the top, and then launched it on the ground, 
 watching its evolutions with a paternal smile. 
 
 The women, in the meanwhile, were preparing to 
 mount their horses. Kado went toward the Command- 
 ant, and as he arranged the stirrup Herv^ leaned toward 
 him and whispered : 
 
 " You are well punished, Kado, for deceiving me, and 
 I am equally so, for having believed in you." 
 
 Kado started, and answered with eyes cast on the 
 ground : 
 
 "Yes, sir, I know, you have been kind to the boy 
 Shall you take the poor little fellow with you? " 
 
 " If I did my duty, Kado, I should take the father 
 with the son." 
 
 " The child is far from strong, master. I like to look 
 at him, for his dead mother and he, are exactly alike. 
 Some people think Alix like me, but the boy is his moth- 
 er's breathing image. He is very delicate, Master, and 
 can't stand a prison, sir." 
 
 Kado's voice broke, he carried his hand to his throat 
 as if suffocating. 
 
 "Kado," said Herve*, "I have allowed myself to be 
 influenced by feelings and recollections, to which you, 
 
THE CAKOXESS SUSPECTED. ?5 
 
 apparently, have attached little importance. Can you, 
 and will you, confess all, before these men ? That is, 
 will you make a full confession ? " 
 
 The Breton, after looking around him with sad inde- 
 cision, raised one hand to Heaven, and said in a firm 
 tone: 
 
 " The child is in the hands of God." 
 
 " Forward ! March ! " cried Herve\ 
 
 " Commandant," said Bruidoux, leading the boy by 
 the collar, " what am I to do with this boy ? He is as 
 spry as a monkey, and will be off like the wind, in 
 search of his wife." 
 
 "He is in your charge, Sergeant, you are responsible 
 for him." 
 
 "In that case, come here my boy!" said Bruidoux, 
 drawing forth a long rope from his coat pocket. One 
 end he passed around his own waist, the other he 
 attached to that of his young captive, and in that 
 style, overtook the detachment as it wound down th8 
 hill amid the mon.ing mists. 
 
W fflE WHITE FEAfltEfi. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 DOES not the terrible burthen of life seem some- 
 what easy to carry, when, under a blue and 
 cloudless sky, one rides along, past freshly blooming 
 hedges, drinking in the delicious air? In such brief 
 moments one realizes the delight of living, and is 
 grateful for having been born. But does a man overr 
 take you, who talks of politics and elections, the 
 charm is broken ! 
 
 These sensations were depicted on the faces of our 
 travellers. Herve*, and the old guide, alone looked 
 anxious and careworn. Herve* rode in front questioning 
 his conscience. After all that had passed, he no longer 
 entertained a doubt as to the nature of the perfidy 
 by which he had suffered. It was clearly his duty to 
 refuse further protection to persons who could so take 
 advantage of him. Each onward step made him an 
 accomplice in a treason, the nature of which he was 
 still ignorant, certain as he was of its existence. How 
 could he ever interrogate with the severity of a judge 
 and an enemy, these women to whom he was allied 
 by such cherished recollections no ! this task was far 
 beyond his strength. To do this, were also to open 
 the eyes of his men to a duplicity which had cost 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. 77 
 
 #nc of their comrades his life. It was to abandon these 
 *megrees to the rigor of the law. Andred, too, would 
 be involved in the consequent perils, and he would 
 therefore be endangering his own sister. Herve', not- 
 withstanding his stern principles, was not quite enough 
 of a stoic, to burthen his soul with an act which polit- 
 ical enthusiasm might laud, but which every man would 
 stigmatize as infamous in his heart. To escape these 
 anxieties, Herv6* decided on continuing the journey 
 as far as Kergant, without bringing up the subject, 
 but determined, also, that on his arrival there, he 
 would lay all the details before his General. Relieved 
 by this determination, Herve' was at last able to think 
 once more Of the feather which the wind had brought 
 to his feet from Mademoiselle de Kergant's window. 
 He had puzzled his brain to discover its meaning. 
 He was certain that the plume belonged to Bellah, as 
 a swift glance at the young lady's elegant hat, showed 
 him that it had lost its crowning decoration. This 
 conviction was at first decisive, but presently he dis- 
 covered, to his discomfiture, that Andrew's hat was also 
 vithout its feather, and this again involved the point 
 la doubt. 
 
 Andred, who had noticed this cursory examination 
 on the part of her brother, wheeled her horse around 
 until she rode close at his side. 
 
 44 Is not this morning delicious?" she cried, "but 
 what a singular hat it pleases you to wear, Command- 
 ant P At these words, lime, who was not altogether 
 
78 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 satisfied with his little sister, began to whistle and 
 touched his spur to his horse, but Andree* was not the 
 woman to accept this as a reply. 
 
 "Commandant," she repeated, "you have a most 
 singular hat." 
 
 "And in what respect is it singular? " asked Herve\ 
 seeing that he must answer. 
 
 "It is so flat! Why do you not put a plume in 
 it?" 
 
 The word plume was precisely the one of all others 
 which at that moment hovered on Herve"s lips. 
 
 "Plume," he repeated, mechanically, in a half 
 whisper. 
 
 " Plume ! " cried Andrei in high delight. 
 
 " How did you sleep last night ? " asked Herve\ 
 
 "Not badly, Commandant, or rather, it would not 
 have been a bad night, had I not been bothered by a 
 persistent dream, all about a plume ! " 
 
 " By the way, child," said her brother, " what have 
 you done with your own ? " 
 
 "Bless me! Is it not in my hat? No, I remember 
 the wind bore it away last night." 
 
 " And was the wind equally courteous to your 
 friend?" 
 
 " Ah ! '*' cried the girl, with a gay laugh. " I have 
 you now. No, the wind carried off but one, and you 
 must guess which. This, citizen, is precisely what I 
 have sworn not to disclose, because were I to tell you, 
 Commandant, you would be too happy ! " 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. ?9 
 
 And Andrei, as she finished this sentence, rushed 
 like the wind, back to her companions. 
 
 Commandant HervS, now abandoned himself to 
 happy visions, and Lieutenant Francis, studied the 
 iharming sister of his friend, from out the corner of 
 his eyes. So great was the interest of the youth in 
 'this new study,' that Mademoiselle Pelven would have 
 discovered it, even if her powers of observation had 
 been limited. Women easily make these discoveries, 
 and if the observer, may be classed among the enemies 
 of the observed, the lady's enjoyment of her conquest, is 
 greatly heightened. The graceful, slender figure of the 
 young Lieutenant, his dashing, impulsive movements, 
 the care with which the delicate moustache was 
 trimmed, and his debonnaire way of placing his hat a 
 little on one side, gave him a jaunty, page-like aspect, 
 that was very taking. Mademoiselle Andree* like most 
 young girls feeling themselves to be regarded with 
 especial attention, was more than usually silent and 
 quiet for a time, but all at once she seemed to be 
 taken possession of, by a very demon of loquacity. 
 
 Francis in the meantime had arrived at the conclusion 
 that it was time for him to declare his sentiments. He 
 spurred on his horse, passed and repassed Henre* as if 
 excreting his steed, and finally disappeared from view 
 for some ten minutes. He came back at full gallop, 
 concealing a bouquet of the wild flowers, over which 
 he had heard Andree* go into ecstasies, a few minutes 
 before. Fortunately, Andree" was at this time, some 
 
80 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 little distance in front of the Canoness ; Francis drew 
 in his reins as he reached the girl's side. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, as he presented his bouquet, 
 "your brother sends you this." 
 
 The falsehood was apparent, and if Andree had time 
 to realize this, the young man was lost ; but the won- 
 derful temerity, not unusual to lovers of the age of 
 Francis, often enables them to profit by the surprise 
 occasioned by their audacity. Andree hardly knowing 
 what she did, took the flowers with confused thanks. 
 
 It may readily be imagined by my readers, that this 
 was a scene which the Canoness could not contemplate 
 with careless eyes. She trotted on to join the young 
 lady, the perfumed powder flying from her hair in 
 little clouds: fixing her eyes on Andree's troubled face, 
 she said in a voice that indicated a tempest in the air : 
 
 " May I ask what song this patriotic troubadour is 
 singing in your ear ? " 
 
 " He was entreating me, Madame," answered Andree*, 
 44 to offer you this bouquet, as he had not the courage 
 to do so for himself, so impressed is he by the dignity 
 yes, dignity that was the word of your face." 
 
 During these words, the flowers had passed from 
 Andrew's dainty, rose-tipped fingers, to the withered 
 hand of the Canoness. Francis drove his spurs into 
 his horse, which reared violently, and came very near 
 throwing him. 
 
 44 Young man ! " called the old lady. 44 Bless me, how 
 am I to accost such people. My friend ! Lieutenant! ' 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. 81 
 
 "Say, Citizen, Madame," mu no uved Andree\ 
 
 "Citizen!" cried the Canoness, then seeing as the 
 officer came nearer, how singularly handsome he was, 
 she said, less authoritatively. 
 
 " My child, where did you learn such respect for 
 women?" 
 
 " From my mother," answered Francis. 
 
 " That was well said," replied the Canoness, " and I 
 shall keep your bouquet. You wandered early from 
 the right path, my poor boy." 
 
 " Not so, Madame, for I had the honor of meeting 
 
 you." 
 
 44 This is really very extraordinary ! " replied the 
 old lady. M How happens it that a young man, so well 
 born as you seem to have been, should have found 
 himself among these sanguinary ruffians?" 
 
 " Of the National Convention ! " interrupted Francis. 
 
 "Because, Madame, I love fighting, and surely, it 
 is more natural for me to like to fight for my own 
 jountry than for any other. " 
 
 " Unhappy boy !" cried the Canoness; "your judg 
 me nt lias been perverted by grand words, before you 
 were old enough to understand their sense. But with 
 your mother, how was it with her ? you spoke of her 
 
 "Yes, I spoke of her, but with your permission, we 
 will say no more about her," answered Francis, hastily. 
 
 As he spoke he drooped his eyelids, as waxen and 
 heavily-fringed as those of a woman, just in time to 
 prevent the tears from falling. 
 6 
 
82 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 A moment of silence followed this involuntary evi- 
 dence of a mysterious sorrow. Then Andree* spoke 
 with a gayety belied by the moisture on her cheeks. 
 
 " What is that delicious odor, Aunt?" she said, and 
 as she spoke, she took from the bouquet two or three 
 flowers, which she took care not to return after breath- 
 ing their fragrance. Francis recognized this act with 
 a grateful look, that covered the brow of the young 
 girl with a deep blush. At this moment a summons 
 from Herve*, compelled the young officer to leave the 
 ladies, which Andrde was not for the moment disposed 
 to regret. 
 
 The country through which the party was travelling, 
 had by degrees totally changed its appearance. The 
 naked hill-sides and summits had disappeared. The 
 roads ran regularly between green hedges, magnificent 
 trees stood here and there in the meadows, of which 
 the hedges marked the boundaries. Clumps of apple 
 trees, flushed with rosy bloom, charmed the eyes. At 
 the noise of the horses' feet, great oxen put their heads 
 through the hedges, and contemplated the travellers 
 with a meditative aspect. An occasional low-roofed 
 house, covered with moss and lichens, was seen among 
 the trees, and sometimes a cluster of houses stood 
 together on the plain, and among them a spire pointed 
 out the village church. 
 
 But the sense of peace and happiness, awakened by 
 this country scene, was greatly marred by the frequent 
 ruins by masses of half -burned rubbish or by long 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. 8S 
 
 rows of graves. The rich soil did its best to cover 
 with flowers and sweet mosses, the traces of crime and 
 sorrow, but the fields were untilled. Those ' who 
 should have cultivated them, lay beneath the sod. 
 Occasionally the travellers 'heard a sob or the murmur 
 of voices, and saw women and children kneeling and 
 praying living effigies upon unknown tombs ! Trunks 
 of trees lay across the road, branches were broken off, 
 and apertures appeared in the thick hedges. The 
 strange color of the mud in the ditches by the way- 
 side, and the trampled turf, all denoted at intervals, 
 the theatre of one of those struggles, where the glory 
 of the conquerer, whomsoever he might be, was lost 
 in the horror of the fratricide. 
 
 44 You must admit, Commandant," said Francis, 
 suddenly breaking the sad silence ; " you must admit, 
 that civil war, is a terrible thing." 
 
 44 Say war, Francis, civil or not civil. Do you think 
 that a misfortune here, is not one there ? The crime, 
 if it be a crime, does not surely stop at the milestone 
 which marks our frontier. Do you think that grief 
 and curses, are less bitter, or less legitimate, because 
 they are expressed in a tongue that is not your own ? 
 It has required centuries to master a very simple idea. 
 Men are beginning to call a duel between man and 
 man, an absurd prejudice; the duel of nations is only 
 an application of the same principle on a grand scale. 
 If we accept the Christian doctrine, that all mankind 
 are one great family, then all wars are civil wars, and 
 barbaric extravagance." 
 
84 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 "And yet you are a soldier! ' said Francis, looking 
 with some wonder at Herve*. 
 
 " The moment that a truth becomes clear to us, is 
 \iot always the auspicious moment for announcing it," 
 inswered the youthful Commandant. 
 1 " At all events, Monsieur Herve*, this terrible war is 
 dver now, is it not? " 
 
 "Yes, for a few days, perhaps only for a few hours,' 1 
 answered Herve*, with melancholy bitterness. 
 
 It may be advisable to touch here, on those facts 
 upon which this opinion of the young Commandant 
 was founded, and which was so justified by subse- 
 quent events. The treaties of La Launaye and 
 of Saint - Florent, signed successively by Clarette, 
 Cormatin and Stofflet, appeared, it is true, to have 
 included in its terms, all the insurgent districts 
 Aragon, Bretagne and La Haute Vended ; but the 
 Republican generals knew only too well, how incessant 
 were the intrigues of the Royalist agents in Paris and 
 London, and were convinced that the proposed armis- 
 tice, was merely to augment the divisions in the ranks of 
 the rebels, and to cause the peasants to lose soldier-like 
 habits they had acquired, by tempting them to return 
 to their peaceful duties and labors. On the other side, 
 the very exercise of the advantages offered to the Roy- 
 alists in these treaties would have been quite enough 
 to awaken distrust of the chiefs of that party, even if 
 they had been more sincere, than historical evidence 
 allowed them to suppose. The amnesty had been 
 
THE WHITE FEAfHER, 85 
 
 anquestionably proposed and accepted, in reciprocal 
 good faith, but there was a wheel within a wheel, a 
 rebellion within the heart of the Republic. There 
 were secret and almost incredible concessions, among 
 which was the promise to deliver the young Louis 
 XVII. to the chiefs armed in his name ; the credulity 
 of the Vendean diplomates can hardly be conceived, if 
 we did not know, that while they pretended to accept 
 all the conditions seriously, they in reality estimated 
 them at their real value. This peace, therefore, was, 
 in the opinion of those who had created it, a mere sus- 
 pension of arms, which both parties believed to be to 
 their interest, and yet we are certain, that some of the 
 Royalist chiefs, regarded as serious, the most incredible 
 among the obligations imposed by these treaties. 
 
 It is necessary to recall this detail of the history 
 of this time, to enable our readers to understand our 
 tale, but we do not wish it to be supposed, that we 
 claim any historical value for our romance ; we simply 
 desire to commit no anachronism, and to reproduce the 
 manners and the customs, of the epoch of which we 
 write. 
 
 The travellers halted in a village, and took an hour 
 to rest and dine, then resumed their journe} r , travelling 
 until night, without any other incident than passing 
 several Republican encampments, with which pass- 
 words were exchanged. Night was coming on, the 
 hills stood dark against the horizon, when the timid 
 Colibri said to the courteous Bruidoux: 
 
86 1 It E WIIITE FEATnEft. 
 
 w> A iii 1 wrong, Sergeant, when I say that in America* 
 most of the men are monkeys ? " 
 
 The Sergeant shrugged his shoulders with so much 
 pnergy, that the poor little captive at the other end of 
 ' .he rope was greatly startled. 
 
 "Come on, you little rascal!" shouted Bruidoux ; 
 " and as for you, Colibri, let me tell you that the 
 notions you have formed of America, and its inhabi- 
 tants, will cause you to be mistaken for an ass in that 
 distinguished society. Come on, boy ! If you pull at 
 lie rope in that way, you may chance to discover that 
 my foot is not fairy-like in its proportions. There are 
 no such things as monkeys, Colibri ; they are fabu- 
 lous beasts, invented by priests and tyrants to humil- 
 iate mankind. America, Colibri you are pulling at 
 the rope, boy! America, as I was saying, boy! if 
 you don't let me talk in comfort, I will shake the life 
 out of you! Ah ! That is right; now we go easy. A 
 man, Colibri, can, if he has common sense Ha! 
 Where is that little Chouan devil! He has cut the 
 rope. Catch the prisoner! there he goes, in that 
 meadow to the right ! " 
 
 The child had in fact achieved the escape of which 
 he had been dreaming, having undoubtedly secured the 
 means of doing so while at dinner, and had waited for 
 the dusk to carry out his design. He was running 
 at breathless speed across the meadow, separated 
 from the highway by a ditch and a hedge, both of 
 which Bruidoux leaped without hesitation, the soldiers 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. 87 
 
 following with wild shouts. But while they were still 
 ill the centre of the field, the child h*d reached the 
 other end, very near a thick wood. He turned when 
 he gained this point, and saw that he was master of 
 the situation, and made a little sign as if he wished to 
 speak. A dozen guns were at once pointed at him. 
 
 "Down with your guns," cried Bruidoux, breath- 
 lessly; "are we murderers of children? Speak, child." 
 
 " Take good care of my top," called out the lad over 
 his shoulder, as he disappeared in the wood. 
 
 " Well ! well ! " said Bruidoux, as he returned to 
 the road, amid the ill-concealed laughter of his com- 
 rades ; " if this is not a great joke ! Your top, you 
 little villain," added the old Sergeant between his teeth. 
 " May I live to meet j ou with a beard on your chin, 
 and if I don't make you swallow your top with all its 
 cord" 
 
 "Well, Sergeant," interrupted Herve', taking little 
 trouble to conceal his satisfaction at the turn of affairs, 
 " is this the way you allow Royalists, to slip through 
 your fingers ? " 
 
 " Upon my word, Commandant," muttered the Ser- 
 geant, sulkily, " if you mean that I ought to have 
 allowed my men to shoot that mite, you may put five 
 balls through my head, and say no more about it, for I 
 roally could not see it in that light." 
 
 " Nor could I, old Bruidoux," answered Herve' ; " I 
 know very well what you would have done, had you 
 been dealing with a man. As to women and children. 
 
88 THE WHITE FEATHER. 
 
 we must leave them to the jailers and executioners, 
 who dishonor the Republic." 
 
 The brave Sergeant, completely rehabilitated in the 
 eyes of his inferiors, by the words of the young Com- 
 mandant, loosened the knots of the now useless ropes, 
 and informed his men, that he should remember their 
 indiscreet gayety, and should remind them of it when 
 they least expected it. He was interrupted in this 
 amusement by Kado, who handed him his drinking 
 flask, saying with great cordiality : 
 
 " We may not have the same opinions on many sub- 
 jects, comrade, but all I have in the world, is at the 
 service of a man whose heart is filled with compassion 
 for the weak." 
 
 The Sergeant seemed both surprised and pleased at 
 this overture, and drank from the flask with considera- 
 ble eagerness. Then returning it to the Breton, he 
 said gravely, 
 
 "All brave men have the same ideas on certain 
 subjects." 
 
 The march was now resumed, and under the com- 
 bined influences of night and fatigue, silence was long 
 unbroken in the column. Herve*, noticing that Andree" 
 wavered more than once in her saddle, as if overcome 
 w T ith sleep, rode close at her side, and watched her 
 solicitously. The girl, feeling the supporting arm of 
 her brother, yielded to the rocking motion of her horse 
 and fell asleep. She did not awaken until a distant 
 clock struck eleven. Andree* listened breathlessly and 
 uttered a little exclamation. 
 
THE WHITE F E A T II E K . g9 
 
 >Bellah! " she cried, "that is our clock at Kcrgant, 
 the chapel clock. Let me go on, brother ! " 
 
 And without waiting for his reply, the eager child 
 galloped off down a long shady avenue, at the end of 
 which the lights, twinkling through the trees, looked 
 almost like glow-worms. 
 
 The Seignoral manor of Kergant was almost cloistral 
 in its construction and appearance. It presented the 
 form of a triangle, each side of which ended in a tall 
 tower with a pointed roof. 
 
 The foundations were protected by a moat, but a 
 permanent bridge had taken the place of the old fash- 
 ioned draw-bridge, and gave access to the large central 
 door. The little chapel, whose clock had just sounded 
 the hour, stood on the right of the chateau, on a gentle 
 elevation. Several other buildings, doing duty as farm 
 houses and stables, contributed with the chapel, to 
 frame in the square, lying in front of the manor, which 
 did duty as a courtyard. In the centre of this square, 
 several servants with torches in their hands, listened 
 with respect, to the orders given them by a man whose 
 hair was whitened by years, but whose tall form was 
 as erect, and the muscles of his manly face as firm as 
 of yore. The Marquis de Kergant was as usual, all in 
 black, he wore crape on his left arm, and a similar em- 
 blem of mourning was attached to the handle of the 
 hunting-knife at his side. * 
 
 Andree* and Bellah dismounted at the same moment, 
 and the Marquis pressed them both to his heart. The 
 Canonets then approached, embraced her brother 
 
90 TIIE WniTE FEATHER 
 
 affectionately, and said a few words in a low voice 
 to him. The old Marquis went toward the ScotoF 
 soubrette and bowing with great politeness, pointea 
 to the chateau. 
 
 The daughter of the MacGregor offered her arm to 
 the Canoness, and the two moved toward the chateau. 
 
 " Go with them, my daughters," said the Marquis, 
 " you must be dead with fatigue." 
 
 " Excuse me, dear father," interrupted Andree* in a 
 coaxing tone, "but we did not come alone, some 
 one " she hesitated. 
 
 "Goon, my child," answered the Marquis, "your 
 brother's room is ready." 
 
 Andree* pressed her lips to the hand of her adopted 
 father, wiped away her tears, and retired with her 
 sister. Monsieur de Kergant followed the young girls 
 as far as the bridge over the moat. There he stood still, 
 with his servants behind him, and waited. At this 
 moment the Republican detachment entered the court- 
 yard. Herve* leaped to the ground, and went toward 
 the Marquis, struggling to restrain all evidences of emo- 
 tion. Francis and the soldiers followed at a respectful 
 distance. 
 
 When Herve* was within a few paces of the Marquis, 
 ne took off his hat, and saluted the old gent 1 eman with 
 profound respect. 
 
 " Sir," said the Marquis de Kergant, " I am deeply 
 indebted to you." 
 
 "I only wish, sir. that T merited your thanks," 
 replied Herve\ " I am afraiu - 
 
THE WHITE FEATHER. 91 
 
 " Be sure, citizen Commandant, since that is your 
 title," returned the Marquis, "that I am not one of 
 those persons, whose hearts contradict that which their 
 lips utter. Permit me to offer to the Comte de Pelven, 
 hospitality for ;he night." 
 
 Hervd was surprised and offended by the bitter and 
 haughty tone, in which these words were spoken. 
 
 " Monsieur," he said, w I am compelled to ask the 
 same favor for my Lieutenant, and my soldiers." 
 
 "And these gentlemen would take it in case of 
 refusal I fancy." 
 
 " I beg, sir " 
 
 " I am curious to know," interrupted the Marquis, 
 " because I took an oath, never to allow any one of the 
 butchers of your so-called Republic, to step his foot 
 under my roof, and I can only break my oath, in favor 
 of the son of your father." 
 
 At these exasperating words, an angry murmur broke 
 from the soldiers, but Herve" imposed silence on them 
 by a gesture, and then turning toward the Marquis, he 
 said : 
 
 " May I ask, sir, if you took this oath on the same 
 d.iy that you signed a treaty with our representatives, 
 and accepted the amnesty of our so-called Republic?" 
 
 "No !" cried Monsieur de Kergant, " I took it on the 
 day, that you stained your flag, with the blood of your 
 King, and I renewed it on the day that I learned of 
 your last cowardly act. Indeed, it was yesterday that I 
 henrd how the son of the Martyr had been murdered in 
 
92' THE WHITE FEAT HE A. 
 
 his prison. The treaty now counts for nothing, we arc 
 no longer at peace. Enough ! come in, Citizen Herve*, 
 and have no fears, but ask nothing more at my hands.' 1 
 
 "You can not really suppose that I would accept 
 such hospitality," answered Herve\ with a smile, the 
 calm politeness of which brought a flush to the brow 
 of the old gentleman. "As I find myself on an ene- 
 my's soil, I shall pass my night as a soldier should. 
 Come, my children, we will bivouac together." 
 
 The soldiers answered with a shout, and followed 
 their young Commandant, as he hurried from the 
 vicinity of the chateau. 
 
 "Commandant," said Bruidoux, "he would never be 
 so haughty, if he had not a lot of Chouans hidden 
 away in his cellars. Give the word, and we will soon 
 see who will sleep out of doors to night." 
 
 "No," answered Herve*, "they would say >ve had 
 violated the treaty. I am not sorry for this reception. 
 
 it spares me But who is that following us? Ah ! 
 
 it is Kado. Now, my friend, do me one favor, take 
 good care of my horses. I suppose the poor animals 
 do not come under the oath." 
 
 " I will do so, sir, but is that all ? " 
 
 " These brave men are very hungry, Kado. Can't 
 you get them some supper from the village. You will 
 find us at the hill of stones. Here is my purse." 
 
 "But Monsieur Herve* " 
 
 " Take my purse, I say, and be careful and pay for 
 everything, even if you are obliged to put the moDey 
 into the very hand of the Marquis himself." 
 
THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 33 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 
 
 GUIDED by his childish recollections, Herve, fol- 
 lowed by his men, threaded the winding ^aths 
 which finally led him to a bleak piece of land. With 
 the exception of a few clumps of tall trees, the only 
 sign of vegetation on the arid soil of this mountain- 
 side, was a fine grass tying in patches, almost like moss. 
 The soldiers hesitated, for the night wind swept over 
 the spot, which seemed singularly unfitted to afford 
 them shelter. 
 
 " Patience, my friends," said the young officer, " I have 
 a surprise for you ! " The soldiers, encouraged by 
 these words, pushed on, Herve' following them, when 
 all at once he heard his name called. 
 
 " It is your sister," said Francis. 
 
 "Yes, of course," murmured Hervd, "go on with 
 the men and I will join you presently." 
 
 The young Lieutenant hurried on, and presently 
 Andree*, breathless and exhausted, threw herself in 
 her brother's arms. 
 
 " My dear child," expostulated Herve*, " it is only 
 what we might have expected. Control yourself, 1 
 beg." 
 
 Andree* tried to speak, but sobs prevented her 
 
94 THE STOKES OF TUE DRUIDS. 
 
 " Poor little soul, keep up your courage,'* murmured 
 Herve, and then lifting his e}es to Heaven, as he held 
 his sister close to his heart, he cried: 
 
 ' Oh, God ! give us peace, bring all this discord to 
 an end, I iniploreyou." 
 
 " Take me with you," entreated Andrei, " take me 
 away with you." 
 
 " Take you away, child, and where ? To a camp or 
 to a prison?" 
 
 M No matter where, dear brother. I can not remain 
 under a roof, from which you have been driven with 
 insults." 
 
 " But you are mistaken, I was simply treated as if I 
 was an enemy, as indeed I am. It is quite natural that 
 the report, be it true or false, of the death of the young 
 Pretendant should have exasperated Monsieur Kergant 
 to that degree, that he forgot all that was due to 
 himself." 
 
 " And you will take me, Herve*," said Andrei, in 
 the most caressing tone. 
 
 " Until I have a safe and honorable shelter for you, 
 my child, it is my duty to leave you in that house 
 which our father chose for you. But we must part, 
 dearest," he added. " I must not allow my soldiers to 
 think for a moment, that I have abandoned them." 
 
 " You must not leave me," Andree* murmured. " [t 
 is impossible that we who have been separated so long 
 should part so soon, and in this way." 
 
 " I promise, Andree", that I will not leave, to-morrow, 
 without seeing you." 
 
THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. C5 
 
 Andrei made him repeat this promise over and ovei 
 again, and then Herve, after another tender embrace, 
 turned away, and ran swiftly after his men. The road 
 was too rough, for him to continue long at the pace 
 with which he had begun, but Herve* remembered that 
 there was a little path which ran across, and shortened 
 the distance greatly; this path was stony and steep, 
 but Herve* was none the less determined to try it. He 
 had nearly reached his men, when he found that it was 
 impossible for him to keep his footing, and was obliged 
 to crawl along on his knees, aiding himself by the 
 thorny reeds to which he clung. Francis, hearing the 
 noise, and Herve"s labored breathing, fancied that his 
 friend was pursued. 
 
 " Courage," he cried, " we are close at hand. Have 
 we the lavandieres again ? Or what is it ? " 
 
 " Nothing at all," panted Hei've*, as he rolled down 
 the hill, to the very feet of the astonished Lieutenant, 
 " nothing at all, unless it be that I am losing my mind." 
 
 He had reached a wide plateau, as smooth as a well 
 shorn lawn, stretching far away toward the horizon 
 where the moon was just rising amid dark and storm- 
 laden clouds. In the centre of this plateau stood large 
 stones, which at a distance looked to be merely a con- 
 fused mass, but on approaching, a certain mysterious 
 order in their arrangement was instantly recognized. 
 These stones were of all shapes and sizes ; some stood 
 apart, rising like colossal forms, others in regular files, 
 and in long parallel lines, like petrified phantoms in 
 
r (J THE STONES OP THE DRUIDS. 
 
 their gray mantles; others again were flat, like long 
 narrow tables, standing on one end; a great nnmbei 
 were placed horizontally, making use of that element- 
 ary principle of architecture which children put in 
 practice as the base of their house of cards, the same 
 principle too had been made use of in a combination 
 of flat stones which were so arranged as to form low 
 covered galleries closed at one end. This seemed the 
 culmination of the architect's power. 
 
 The soldiers looked about with great curiosity. 
 There was not another stone but these to be seen, the 
 soil was not turned over, and there was not the smallest 
 indication as to where these gigantic materials had 
 come from. Had they been brought here from the 
 distant valley ? By what means, and for what 
 purpose ? This was a question from which even 
 Bruidoux shrank. It had always been a favorite 
 maxim of the old Sergeant, that a military chief, ought 
 never to put himself in such a position, that his men 
 might tax him with ignorance, he did not therefore 
 hesitate to say to Colibri, that several centuries pre- 
 viously, the son of a certain aristocratic giant, amused 
 himself by piling these stones, one on top of another, 
 instead of going to school as it was his duty to do ! 
 " for," added the Sergeant, " a son should always obey 
 his father, even if that father be an ogre ; even the sons 
 of Pitt and Cobourg should obey Pitt and Cobourg 
 strange as it might appear ! " 
 
 This moral lecture was interrupted by Kado's arrival, 
 
THE STOKES OF TIIE DRUIDS. 07 
 
 who drove before him an ass laden with provisions and 
 fire-wood, to both of which the soldiers soon paid their 
 respects. The old Guard offered his assistance and 
 after kindling their fire, exchanged a cordial grasp of 
 the hand with the Sergeant, promising Herve and 
 Francis to meet them, with their horses, at a certain 
 point the next morning at daybreak. 
 
 After supper, the soldiers selected their beds under 
 these Druid arches, and each slept in peace under those 
 stones, where the rust of centuries covered the stain 
 of human blood. Francis lay just within the entrance 
 to one of the strange galleries, of which we have 
 spoken, where Herve* told him he had often seen old 
 men praying in memory of the worship of their ances- 
 tors. The young Commandant soon realized that he 
 had lost his audience, and smiled as he drew a cloak 
 with paternal care closer over Francis, but sighed with 
 r^ret for that age when sleep comes so readily. 
 
 After walking about these once sacred precincts, 
 Herve* seated himself on one of the tables scattered 
 about. This spot still retained for the inhabitants of 
 the district, a vague reflection of its antique character. 
 Fear and respect held some people aloof from the spot 
 as frou /a unholy place ; but it also prostrated others 
 with words from the Holy Gospel on their lips, at the 
 foot of these pitiless altars. 
 
 That element of superstitious curiosity which has so 
 much power over children, and which is not altogether 
 lost on reaching man's estate, had caused this place 
 7 
 
08 THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 
 
 never to be forgotten by Herve. When very young hip. 
 imagination was fired by the legends he heard around 
 the evening fire, and he shivered with delicious terror 
 as he hovered about these stones day after day. He 
 remembered once, how he had hung about one of the 
 galleries so fascinated that he could not make up his 
 mind to go home. Night came on ; he was missed 
 from the chateau, and a search being made, he was 
 found unconscious within the gallery, as if he had 
 met face to face, the angry God, to whom the ancient 
 priests had made their sacrifices. Bellah, whose natural 
 tarn of mind was to romance and thought, felt an 
 attraction as keen as his to the Druid hill, and often 
 accompanied Herve' thither. When night peopled with 
 doubtful shadows this city of the Stones, the girl shrank 
 close to the side of her adopted brother, who was 
 delighted to extend his protection ; both regarding it, 
 as a presentiment of a still tenderer affection, and the 
 first link in a chain, that should bind them closer 
 together in the future. 
 
 The girl and boy liked to repeat to each other the 
 graceful or terrible traditions of their native land,. and 
 to search on the altars, for indications of sanguinary 
 rites. It was here, indeed, that the two children expe- 
 rienced the first heart-beats of a common danger the 
 first jo}^s of an exchange of dreams and delusions. 
 
 These recollections now overwhelmed Herve" ; he 
 was too fatigued to sleep, and was half lying on the 
 stone table, in the attitude of a statue on a tomb, when 
 
THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 99 
 
 he started up, for among the further rocks he saw the 
 form of a woman, slowly drawing nearer. Herv^ 
 pressed his hands to his brow, asking himself if his 
 reason had left him, but the apparition glided onward, 
 and he recognized Bellah. 
 
 44 You here ! " he cried, as he snatched her hand. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant slowly withdrew it. 
 
 " Commandant HerveY ' she said, coldly, " will you 
 kindly grant me a few moments conversation? " 
 
 Herve*, thus recalled to the present, bowed and took 
 off his hat; then seeing that Bellah's anxious eyes 
 essayed to pierce the darkness around her, he said : 
 
 44 Mademoiselle de Kergant may speak without the 
 least fear : my men are all asleep, off there by the fire.'' 
 
 The young girl leaned against the stone, near which 
 Commandant Heive* stood erect, and did not speak for 
 a minute or two. 
 
 At last she said, slowly: " Monsieur, your govern- 
 ment has cancelled by a new crime, the treaties between 
 us-" 
 
 14 1 am not aware of it," Herve* answered. 
 
 k I tell you so," said Bellah. 
 
 Herve* bowed profoundly. 
 
 tv Have you sir," she continued, "such a singular idea 
 of duty, that you consider yourself bound to adhere to 
 a perjured government? Are you resolved to bear 
 such burthen, and assume such tasks as your Republic 
 may see fit to impose upon you ? " 
 
 "Permit me, Mademoiselle de Kergant." answered 
 
100 THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 
 
 Herve*, "to repudiate the complicity with which you 
 seem so eager to charge me; I answer, of course, only 
 for myself. I serve not men so much as ideas I 
 deplore the mistakes to which these ideas lead I pity 
 the martyrs they make, and would gladly rescue them, 
 but the principles tliemselves are pure, and worthy of 
 the faith which I have sworn to them. As to this new 
 crime, Mademoiselle will permit me to hear of it, 
 from impartial lips, before I venture to sit in judg- 
 ment upon it." 
 
 "Do you doubt my word, Sir?" said Bellah, with 
 bitter disdain. 
 
 "Do I doubt your word? Yes, I do ! " cried Herve, 
 with passionate vehemence. "I doubt your voice 
 itself I doubt those cold lips and the strange words 
 they utter. Who are you? Whence come you? Why 
 are you here ? Who sent you ? Was this the place to 
 select, in which to taunt and overwhelm me? By 
 Heaven ! this is a cruelty that passes the imagination 
 of man. Leave me." 
 
 At this sudden bursting of the storm, the girl's 
 courage seemed to falter, and it wa's in a faint and 
 tremulous voice, like a penitent's, that she replied : 
 
 " Yes, Herve', I will go." 
 
 But instead of going, she pressed both hands to hsr 
 heart, as if to restrain its tumultuous beating. 
 
 "Bellah," said Herve\ more gently, " forgive me, 
 but you have filled up the measure of my mortifi- 
 cations. Will you go now? You will leave a man 
 
THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 101 
 
 here, whose spirit cannot bear up under another straw. 
 Your task is done. Farewell ! " 
 
 " Oh ! not yet not thus, Herve* ! I came I 
 hoped yes, I still hope, that your childish associa- 
 tions with this place are not forgotten, whatevei 
 may have been these two long years of separation." 
 
 u They have been such," interrupted Herve^ "that 1 
 would give them, and two more yet to come, for one 
 hour of our happy Past." 
 
 "Oh! Thank God thank God. This Past may 
 be ours once more, Herve* ! you can return to this 
 family, to this home, and find a father and sisters 
 ready to receive you with open arms you can do this 
 will you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! if I could think that this could ever be," said 
 the young man, sadly. 
 
 " It can be now, this very moment ! " answered 
 Bellah, eagerly. " Listen to me, Herve" : The war is 
 about to re-commence, and I have reasons I know, in 
 fact, that our cause will triumph. You do not care 
 for what I say, but I know it. This cause is that 
 of your ancestors it is the cause of God; you have 
 deceived yourself, Herve. My father has ambitious 
 projects for you; he is determined that your talents 
 and your courage shall be recognized all this justice 
 you will obtain from us of that you may be sure. If 
 you wish proofs, Herv6, take this." 
 
 As she uttered these last words, she drew from her 
 bosom a folded paper, which she placed in his hands. 
 
102 THE STONES Of THE fcRtJlDS. 
 
 He drew back with a shudder as if an adder had 
 touched him, and the paper fell at his feet. 
 
 " The justice I should deserve," he said, " would oe 
 the contempt of my friends . the contempt of my ene- 
 mies and yours also, Bellah." 
 
 " Mine ! You are mistaken ! I should never enter 
 tain contempt for a man who nobly retracts his errors." 
 
 " You would be the first to despise me, Bellah, and 
 you would be right. Not another word on this point, 
 I implore you." 
 
 "Suppose I should tell you, Herve*, that you can 
 never return to your Republicans that death awaits 
 
 you?" 
 
 " It is a familiar prospect to a soldier, and each hour 
 I live, renders me more reconciled to death." 
 
 " Yes," answered the girl, in a strange tone ; " you 
 are ready to die as a soldier, but an ignominious death 
 the death of a traitor; what do you think of that?" 
 
 " Such an idea is not worth thinking about at all " 
 
 "But you will be accused, and then the end is 
 certain. In the name of Heaven, realize that I am 
 speaking the truth." 
 
 " Tell me what you mean." 
 
 " Alas ! Were my father's life involved as is yours, 
 my lips would still be sealed." 
 
 " So be it ; my judges will tell me." 
 
 " Herve* ! your heart has grown hard among these 
 men of blood ; you sacrifice your life without remem- 
 bering that it does not be"ong to yourself alone. Poor 
 Andrei ! " 
 
THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 103 
 
 *'If misfortune should come to me," said Herve*, 
 turning his head away, "I know with whom I leave 
 her." 
 
 Bellah grasped the young man's arm with almost 
 savage energy, and fixing her large eyes, swimming in 
 tears, upon him, she said, slowly : 
 
 " And what of me ? " 
 
 Bellah's despairing gesture, her low hoarse whisper, 
 lent to these words so much expression, that Herve* 
 was moved to the depth of his heart. It was almost 
 as if the lips of her whom he loved, had touched his 
 own. He took with trembling hand, the icy cold 
 fingers which Bellah yielded, and looking into the 
 very eyes of the girl, who stood with loudly beating 
 heart before him, he said : 
 
 " Bellah, I love you very dearly ! My life for the 
 last two years, has been filled with this love, and yet 
 mistaken or not I can see no honor separate from the 
 duties before me. I could not live dishonored not 
 even with you above all with you ! " 
 
 As lie finished speaking, Mademoiselle de Kergant's 
 head drooped heavily on her breast. 
 
 u And there is nothing more for me to say noth- 
 ing!" she murmured, in despair. "Hervd," she con- 
 tinued, "Understand that this is irrevocable that 
 our adieu is eternal; we shall never see each other 
 again all is finished finished ! May God forgive me 
 for having spoken to you thus; I have allowed my 
 weak woman's heart to influence me. I thought I 
 
104 THE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 
 
 was doing right, because it cost me a greater struggle 
 than anything else in the world, and I am mortified 
 and ashamed." 
 
 "Bellah! Bellah! you are killing me! Adieu." 
 
 14 Adieu ! " then cried the girl, with a spasmodic 
 effort at self-control. "Adieu, man without memory, 
 soul, heart or pity ! my duty is as unplacable as yours. 
 Adieu ! " And she departed, moving swiftly, but so 
 noiselessly that her going, like her coming, was as the 
 silent vision of a dream. 
 
 As soon as she had disappeared, Pelven followed her 
 some little distance, as if unwilling to submit to her 
 loss. He fancied that he heard her speak, and then 
 that a man's voice was mingled with hers. The idea 
 that this attempt of Mademoiselle de Kergant was a 
 concerted plan that she had a confidant, now occurred 
 to Herve' in the most obnoxious colors. 
 
 He took a dense path, and moving on cautiously, 
 was soon far enough to see Bellah, and at her side a 
 man of elegant figure, elastic step, and a way of mov- 
 ing that was both energetic and youthful. Mademoi- 
 selle seemed to interrupt him from time to time, as if 
 making objections, and her companion's animated voice 
 sometimes rose high and again subsided into a tone o{ 
 the greatest intimacy. Herve*, through his familiarity 
 with the country, was able to follow the pair unsus- 
 pected by them for some time longer, for he wanted to 
 obtain some clue to the identity of the stranger, either 
 through voice or gesture. 
 
TIIE STONES OF THE DRUIDS. 105 
 
 When they were within a hundred feet of the 
 chateau, the unknown suddenly stopped, and, uttering 
 a few vehement words, snatched Bellah's hand. 
 Herve*, with an exclamation of rage, was about to leap 
 the hedge which concealed him, when a most unex- 
 pected accident nailed him to the ground ; Mademoi- 
 selle Kergant released her arm, and took in turn the 
 hand of her bold cavalier pressing her lips upon it, 
 she bent nearly to the ground. After which she 
 hurried to the chateau, followed more slowly by the 
 man, who had just received from her this extraordinary 
 mark of favor. 
 
 Herve, no longer caring to conceal himself and 
 absolutely carried away by rage, now advanced. 
 
 " Stop, sir," he exclaimed, in a voice which if not 
 very loud, was at least distinct. 
 
 The unknown turned. 
 
 " Who is it ? Who calls ? " he asked. 
 
 " It is I, sir. Pray, wait a moment, I beg of you," 
 answered the Commandant, hurrying on. 
 
 u The deuce take that officer," murmured the un- 
 known ; and with a shrug of his shoulders he quick- 
 ened his steps to that degree, that Hervd could not 
 reach him until he entered the court of the chateau, 
 where Herve* did not care to follow. 
 
 " Never," he said to himself, as he turned on his 
 heel; "never did the fantastic images of delirium 
 depict such a scene ! Bellah that haughty, modest 
 young girl on Le: knees before a man, receiving 
 
106 THE STONES OF TIIE DRUIDS. 
 
 what do I say ? herself lavishing caresses on him ; and 
 that, too, when her lips were still trembling with the 
 words she had uttered to another. Can it be possible ? " 
 
 The young man, as he spoke, had drawn the white 
 plume from his breast, and now tore it into fragments, 
 iwhich he tossed to the four winds of heaven. 
 
 After this execution in effigy, Henre* went back to 
 the djdng embers of the bivouac fire, and threw himself 
 on the ground near Francis. The intense fatigue of 
 this day of mental and physical excitement, had been 
 so great that, in spite of his agitation, he slept so 
 soundly, that the punctual Bruidoux was obliged to 
 awaken him at daybreak. 
 
 Not ten minutes after the party had gone, little 
 Andree* arrived, all out of breath, at a point where her 
 eyes swept the plateau. Seeing it deserted, she uttered 
 a cry of agony, and, throwing herself on the ground, 
 wept for hours. 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 10? 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 THE principal corps of the Republican army then 
 had its quarters at Vitre*, on the limit of 1 Tle-et- 
 Velame and of La Mayenne. The general in chief 
 occupied, between Rennes and Vitre', a dwelling of 
 modest appearance something between a manor house 
 and a farm, which had no claim to the honor of such 
 a guest, other than those presented by its sequestered 
 and picturesque aspect. It is to the courtyard of this 
 house that we now take our readers, informing them 
 that four days have elapsed since the last scene of our 
 romance. 
 
 It was one o'clock in the day. Within the court- 
 yard, surrounded by high walls, a number of soldiers 
 in uniform, were chatting with that reserve which indi- 
 cated the presence of a superior officer. 
 
 The most active of the men, were polishing their 
 arms or equipments of the horses, belonging to their 
 officers. Some, more melancholy, lay on the ground 
 watching the light clouds floating over the sky ; others, 
 face downward, seemed to be absorbed in botanical 
 studies. A very characteristic corner of this picture 
 was formed by two soldiers, each with a gray mous- 
 tache, who having laid a long board across the trunk 
 
108 L I B E R T T A X t> EQUALITY. 
 
 of a fallen tree, were balancing each other with por- 
 tentous gravity, as if their very salvation were 
 involved. It was toward this group that a young offi- 
 cer, crossing the court-yard with a bundle of papers in 
 his hand and a pen between his teeth, now directed his 
 footsteps. 
 
 "Well, Mayen^ais," he said. " Has not Command- 
 ant Pelven yet come back ? " 
 
 "Not yet," answered Mayen^ais, from up in the air, 
 as his end of the board was at that moment in the 
 ascendant. 
 
 " And has nothing been heard from him ? " 
 
 "Nothing at all," said Mayen^ais, as he came slowly 
 down . 
 
 " Look out, you fat porpoise," cried the young man, 
 who, a little offended at the indifference with which 
 the soldier had answered, gave to the board on which 
 Mayemjais was seated, a slight push with his foot. The 
 board, yielding to the impetus, turned on itself, and 
 allowed the two men to roll on the grass, greatly to the 
 satisfaction of the public. 
 
 While the two old soldiers endeavored to replace the 
 board to their satisfaction, the sentinel standing just 
 outside the great arched door, that opened into the 
 country, uttered a quick, "Who goes there?" to which 
 an imperative voice made reply. The sentinel pre- 
 sented arms, and in a moment five horsemen, with 
 garments covered with dust and foam, entered the 
 court-yard with great noise. 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 109 
 
 Four of them wore the uniform of the Republican 
 hussars, while the fifth the one who was first to enter, 
 seemed to be a civilian, for he wore no distinctive signs, 
 except a belt and a tri-colored plume. The sudden 
 silence which ensued in the court-yard, and a name 
 whispered among the soldiers, showed that to many 
 of them, the new comer was an old acquaintance, 
 and an acquaintance, too, who was to be welcomed 
 with more respect than pleasure. He who received 
 this somewhat equivocal greeting justified it in some 
 degree, by the almost ascetic severity of his features, 
 and the expression of his eyes, which was singularly 
 stern and almost implacable. Giving the bridle of 
 his horse to a soldier, he hurriedly entered the house, 
 and, ascending the stairs, found himself in an ante- 
 room, where two sentinels were on guard. Waving 
 away one of them, who, while he made a military 
 salute, seemed to hesitate in admitting him, the new- 
 comer, himself opened the double door into the room, 
 and seemed at last to have found that for which he had 
 been seeking, with such haste and scanty ceremony. 
 Two persons were in the room invaded in this dis- 
 courteous fashion, and one of these, at the noise made 
 by the opening door a young girl, slender and childish 
 in appearance started up from the corner of a sofa, 
 on which she had been sitting, or rather curled d la 
 Turque. On recognizing the austere visage that pre- 
 gented itself, she uttered a little cry, and gliding across 
 the room, disappeared behind a portiere. 
 
110 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 This rapid flight left the indiscreet visitor tSte a tete 
 vith a man, tall and elegant in appearance, whose 
 /outhful features were singularly handsome. This per- 
 sonage wore a military coat, embroidered in gold, 
 with oak leaves on collar and cuffs. Before him lay a 
 tri-colored scarf, and a sword, on a table close to the 
 sofa so promptly deserted. Detecting the agitation 
 occasioned by his unexpected appearance, the unpre- 
 possessing-looking individual who introduces our read- 
 ers to this quiet scene, stopped short, with frowning 
 brow and a mocking smile on his lips. A deep blush 
 mounted to the cheeks of him to whom this mute 
 reproach was addressed. He half rose, and then 
 seating himself with a certain haughty negligence, he 
 said coldly : 
 
 " Citizen Representative, it seems to me that you are 
 not over ceremonious ? " 
 
 " It is a bad habit I have, citizen General, of neglect- 
 ing, with others, those punctilious precautions of eti- 
 quette, the need of which I have never felt for myself! 
 I beg to excuse myself, as I do not care, in so small a 
 matter, to appeal to the rights with which we are 
 clothed, by the power of the Convention, in the rights 
 of the Republic. 
 
 "Your rights! the Republic!" interrupted the young 
 general impetuously. "There is but one Republic in 
 the world and that is the masqued Republic of Venice, 
 which never conferred such rights as you arrogate. I 
 ought to remind you, citizen, that there is a pniiii 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. Ill 
 
 beyond which legitimate surveillance may be called by 
 another name." 
 
 "And have we reached that point?" asked the 
 Representative, in a low, stern voice. " Explain your- 
 self, citizen, if you please. If you merely intend an 
 offence to me personally, I assure you that I am indif- 
 ferent, but if you intend to lay down limits to the 
 Convention, then I say, that it is well that I should be 
 aware of the intent, before I go on with what I came 
 to say." 
 
 The General's frowning brow, the quiver of his lips, 
 indicated that it was with difficult}^ that he submitted 
 to the yoke, with which the heavy hand of the Conven- 
 tion had weighted his victorious head. He rose hastily 
 and said with a constrained smile : 
 
 " I must say, that I should like to be, as every char- 
 coal burner is, master in my house. Nevertheless, if 
 my first impulse perhaps an excusable one allowed 
 me to forget the respect I owe to the Convention, and 
 tc all those who are endowed by them with authority, 
 I am ready to say that I regret it. You seem to have 
 come off a long journey, citizen. Are you a bearer of 
 despatches ? " 
 
 " No ; only of news." 
 
 " And of what nature ? " 
 
 " I should say tjiey were good, if I might judge them 
 from my individual point of view, for they confirm all 
 my previsions, and justify all my warnings, to which no 
 one would listen. Your talents are great, citizen Gen- 
 
112 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 eral, but you are young ! A Revolutionary epoch is not 
 one for chivalric illusions. Civic crowns are not woven 
 by women's fingers. Your soul is great I know, but 
 you are too sensible to the flattery of a transitory 
 popularity. He who puts his hand to a Revolutionary 
 work should resign himself to knowing, that his name 
 is accursed even when his task is a good one. You did 
 not choose to listen to me you wished to temporize 
 when it was necessary to fight; to cure when you 
 should have amputated. I told you then, that all your 
 conciliatory words, all your concessions, served only 
 ends of treason and ingratitude ; and to-day I tell you 
 that your harvest is ripe." 
 
 " That is to say, I presume," answered the young 
 General, who had witb difficulty restrained his impa- 
 tience during the tirade of this dreary Republican, 
 " that is to say, the treaty is broken." 
 
 " Openly and audaciously." 
 
 u And is it I, whom you accuse, citizen ? Has the 
 moderation and humanity which I endeavored to intro- 
 duce into this melancholy war been carried out? Have 
 I been seconded ? Have I even been obeyed ? Was 
 it I who caused the former Comte de Geslin, and de 
 Tristam to be assassinated? Was it I who ordered 
 the head of Boishardy to be borne across the country, 
 to demonstrate the results wh'.ch should follow my 
 pacific words? These crimes, notwithstanding my 
 entreaties, are still unpunished ; and the brigands, as 
 sve call them, have hot blood in their veins, and have 
 
LIBERTY A N D EQUALITY. 113 
 
 proved it that is all 1 Tie Chouans have then 
 returned again ? " 
 
 " The whole country is in a blaze from Le bas Maine 
 to the end of Bretagne. One of our corvettes has been 
 surprised and captured on the Vaunes Duhesnie has 
 been attacked before Plelan Humbert at Camors ! 
 Our magazines in the Finisterre are taken ; our fortifi- 
 cations throughout the Morbigan, are overpowered, and 
 captured." 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked the General, who affected to 
 listen with indifference, as the Representative showed 
 pleasure in the recital. 
 
 " No ; it is not all. A Bourbon is at the head of the 
 rebels." 
 
 " Impossible ! " cried the young Republican chief, 
 instantly losing the air with which he had clothed his 
 wounded pride. " That would be terrible," he added, 
 in a lower voice. 
 
 " What I say is true. Duhesme and Humbert both 
 saw him. Humbert even spoke to him during the 
 combat. He is, they say, the ci devant Comte d 'Artois, 
 a brother of Capet." 
 
 " The Comte d 'Artois ! Impossible ! " repeated the 
 (ieneral, whose animated gestures betrayed great agita- 
 tion. " Only a moment ago, just before you entered in 
 fact, I heard of the arrival of his aide-de-camp, the 
 ci devant Marquis de Riviere, at Chare ttes, but of the 
 Prince, nothing. He had not left English soil then, 
 8 
 
114 LIBERTY AXD EQUALITY. 
 
 and how and at what fata moment, did he set foot in 
 Brittany?" 
 
 fck It is precisely upon that point, citizen General, that 
 I wish to ask your advice. The surveillance has been 
 so careful on the coast, that the appearance of the 
 Prince can only be accounted for in a most melancholy 
 way. The word treason has been whispered." 
 
 The General wheeled quickly, and fixing his flashing 
 eyes on the cold face of the Representative, he repeated 
 in a voice of thunder : 
 
 " The word treason has been whispered ? The trea- 
 son of whom ? " 
 
 " Do not misunderstand me, citizen general, no one 
 breams of suspecting you." 
 
 u And why not, pray," answered the young man 
 bitterly. M Have I not expected that accusation, ever 
 since the day that I made my first attempt to render 
 this war more worthy of this century and of a civilized 
 nation? It is necessary," he continued, taking as he 
 spoke several rapid strides up and down the room ; "it 
 is necessary, it seems, to cut, hew and destroy ! Is it 
 an army or a city before me ? It is a people throw 
 them into the ocean, and pass the ploughshare over 
 half of France if you can, I will not countenance 
 another of these atrocious follies. If this be treason, 
 so be it! Let them suspect me let them denounce 
 me ! I care not. I am weary of this savage war, 
 wherein I may perish some morning, as ignnminiously 
 as if I were a chief of bandits. Let them take my 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 115 
 
 sword I consent. Nay, I demand it. Let them send 
 me to regain my military rank, step by step, on real 
 battle-fields, where the wonnded are not murdered nor 
 the dead mutilated ! " 
 
 M You are losing your self command, General, and 
 yet you will need it all to listen to that which I have 
 still to say." 
 
 " I told you distinctly," he continued, " that there was 
 not the smallest suspicion against you ; and I spoke the 
 absolute truth, but you are reproached, for bestowing 
 your confidence with too much facility, for allowing 
 yourself to regard suspicious personages with far too 
 much friendliness. I speak now of one of your officers, 
 one whom you have received on the most intimate 
 terms, the ci-devant Comte de Pelven." 
 
 " Commandant Pelven, citizen Representative, has 
 made for the Republic, more sacrifices than either you 
 or I, and in leaving him two years in the humble posi- 
 tion he occupies, a most crying injustice has been 
 perpetrated, an injustice that I shall make haste to 
 repair." 
 
 " Hasten, I beg, or you may be anticipated, for the 
 Bourbon, if he be not an ingrate, owes a high recom 
 pense to the pure patriot who received hiin on his 
 landing, and gave him an escort through a country 
 swarming with ' the brigands ' as you call them." 
 
 " Have you proofs of these assertions, citizen ? " 
 
 "Here they are," and the Representative drew a 
 paper from his portfolio. " This is what one of our 
 
116 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 agents in England writes, you yourself can judge of 
 the veracity of these statements as well as myself. 
 This letter, unfortunately, reached me two days aftei 
 the event it was destined to anticipate. Listen : " The 
 English frigate Loyalty will land on the west of Brit- 
 tany, a Bourbon who is said to be the Due d'Enghien, 
 son of Conde, or the Comte d'Artois: this last is the 
 most probable. He travels under the disguise of a 
 woman, in the suite of the sister and the daughter, of 
 the ci-devant Kergant, who have obtained permission 
 to return to France, through the intercession of the 
 ci-devant Pelven, a. Republican officer, high in the 
 favor of the General-in-Chief. The connivance of 
 Pelven, is relied upon to protect the embarkation, which 
 will take place within a few days on the southern coast 
 of Finisterre ; the West, which this time includes 
 Normandy, only awaits the long promised arrival of 
 this chief to rise en masse.'''' 
 
 The General, during this narration, stood dumb 
 with surprise. 
 
 "Is this true? Is this absolutely certain? " added 
 the Representative, pitilessly displaying the letter. .The 
 young man grasped it and read it at a glance, uttered 
 a low groan, and dropped on the sofa, where he buried 
 his face in his hands. 
 
 The only spectator of this anguish was not of a 
 character from whom compassion could be expected foi 
 any weakness of poor humanity, however generous the 
 source might be_: in fact, almost a gleam cf triumph 
 
LIBEKTY AND EQUALITY. 117 
 
 might be detected, in the gaze which he fixed on the 
 young Republican officer. 
 
 " I am more surprised at the audacity of your friend," 
 he resumed, " than at anything else. Instead of 
 remaining with this person whom he has so well served, 
 I am informed that he is on his way back to you, to 
 resume the espionage which has served him so well." 
 
 " Espionage ! Preposterous. Pelven, a spy ! " mur- 
 mured the General, as if the conjunction were an 
 enigma that he could not solve. 
 
 " The first thing, citizen General, as you will admit," 
 continued his companion, "is that justice shall be 
 done." 
 
 The General did not speak for some minutes, then, 
 lifting his head, he said, 
 
 " It is well, citizen Representative, it shall be done." 
 
 " I will wait for Pelven's return, you will then give 
 me an escort, and I will take him to Rouen, where he 
 shall be interrogated before my colleagues, after which 
 he will be tried and sentenced." 
 
 " I tell you citizen, that justice shall be done. Did 
 /ou not understand me?" 
 
 "Not in the .least," answered the Representative 
 with an air of the greatest surprise. " Do you mean 
 that you refuse to surrender this great criminal to the 
 vengeance of the Nation ? " 
 
 " I hold from the Nation the power to avenge it, I 
 require no aid from any one." 
 
 The General spoke with a calm decision that enraged 
 the Representative. 
 
il8 LIBEKTY AND EQTTALITlT. 
 
 "Young man," he exclaimed, with great violence, 2 
 have borne much from you, far more than my character 
 and my duty demanded, but this is beyond all patience 
 and all belief! Do you forget who I am? Do you for- 
 get that were I to open this window and utter two 
 words, I could have your epaulettes torn from your 
 shoulders by your own soldiers? " 
 
 " Try it," said the General, who having once taken 
 his resolution, seemed to delight in his novel and dan- 
 gerous independence. 
 
 " He has certainly lost his mind," murmured his 
 companion, who could not comprehend such bravado, 
 and such disregard of the terrible power, with which 
 he was invested. 
 
 " I should like," continued the General, " to see this 
 point tested. One of us two, citizen, is too much in 
 the confidence of the Nation. It is advisable to dis- 
 cover which, and I snatch the present occasion to find 
 out. Since this stupendous and terrible war has again 
 blazed out, it is not for me to try and smother it, unless 
 my feet and hands, are released from the iron chain 
 with which you have hampered them. What can I do, 
 if all my movements are controlled, by the inquisitorial 
 spirit manifested by you and your colleagues if all 
 my intentions are questioned by fanatics, and my plans 
 frustrated by ignorance ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " answered the Representative. " I see it all 
 now, and can only say, woe to you, or woe to the 
 Republic!" 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. U9 
 
 " The Republic ! " answered the young man, his fine 
 features glowing with enthusiasm. "The Republic is 
 my mother ! I owe everything to her. I love her with 
 my whole heart as I have proved more than once, and 
 as 1 hope, please God, to prove again, but this Republic 
 is not yours. Her likeness, graven on my heart, is not 
 that which you have enthroned, face to face with the 
 scaffold on our public squares. 
 
 " Gladly would I, at the price of my life, tear from 
 history, this black and bloody page, which you desecrate 
 with this sacred name. Future generations will never 
 pardon you for having made this name this grand 
 name Republic, a word significant only of disaster 
 and mourning. They will accuse you of having given, 
 by your excesses, an eternal pretext to the cowardly 
 an eternal excuse to tyrants! Permit me to finish, you 
 can teach me nothing. I know only too well with 
 what arguments you are accustomed to sustain your 
 fanaticism. I do not pretend to argue with you, but 
 go question my soldiers, ask them if they need to be 
 spurred on to victory, by the sinister noises with which 
 you fill our land. Inhumanity is not strength ! Hatred 
 is not justice ! The Republic is not terror ! I have 
 confessed my faith under the lifted battle axe of your 
 all-powerful friends. I have been a guest in their dun 
 geons, and if I left them, only to submit to degrading 
 supervision and control, it is quite time that their 
 doors should be again opened to receive me. Go you 
 now, go and denounce me; the comite* shall judge 
 
120 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 between us ; but believe me, citizen, you had best make 
 no imprudent trial of your strength ; you may readily 
 believe that my patience is at an end as well as your 
 own, and no one shall, in my presence, provoke my 
 soldiers to insubordination. Adieu." 
 
 During this explosion of a storm long gathering, and 
 long contained within the soul of the young General- 
 in-Chief, the face of his companion had first changed 
 to a deep crimson, which, fading away, left it of a livid 
 pallor. His agitated lips refused to frame words in 
 which to express his rage. He could reply only with 
 a smothered exclamation to this abrupt dismissal of his 
 rival, and turning on his heel, left the room with a 
 threatening gesture of his uplifted hand. 
 
 But the time was already past, when a sign from 
 such a hand could stiffen into death, the brow on which 
 glory had set its seal; and if weighed in the scales, 
 the talents, and the services of the conqueror of 
 Wissembourg would have had more Weight than fero- 
 cious puritanism and the barbaric virtues of the 
 survivor of Thermidor. 
 
 More than once before this period of the Revolu- 
 tionary epoch, had the tent of the Republican generals 
 been the theatre of scenes like this which we have 
 endeavored to bring before the eyes of our readers, but 
 very often in the intimacy of their military households, 
 the officers in command gave a free vent to the bitter 
 discouragement engendered in their hearts by the over- 
 shadowing presence of the Representatives. They 
 
LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 121 
 
 beheld the unity and d.gnity of the Commanders com 
 promised, the science of war, or the inspiration of h 
 battle-field, argued upon, and thwarted by the cold 
 objections of men who knew nothing of military 
 matters. Such were the avowed texts of the often 
 fatal discords. 
 
 But to these must be added the sense of divided 
 power, of wounded pride, and the many other mean 
 emotions, which effect a lodgment even in heroic 
 natures. 
 
 History has registered some of the ignorant and 
 presumptuous acts, of which the Republican Generals 
 insist that their civil colleagues were guilty, but, in 
 strict justice, it should not be forgotten that among the 
 lawyers and legislators out of place on the battle-field, 
 more than one nobly upheld our flag, and assisted our 
 wounded veterans in their hour of need. 
 
 After the Therm idorienne reaction, the greater part 
 of the Representatives who had been sent to the fron- 
 tiers and to the west, on duty, feeling that they were 
 no longer fully sustained by the central authority, had 
 allowed their r61e to be modified by circumstances, and 
 permitted their weakened sovereignty to slip from their 
 hands. Some among them, however, either from a lack 
 of sagacity, or from a determination to resist the new 
 order of things, continued in their previous course. 
 Among these last, was the man whom we have just pre- 
 sented to our readers. His reputation for courage and 
 honesty, had caused him t> be respected by the muas- 
 
122 LIBERTY AND EQUALITY. 
 
 ures of purification, which followed the triumph of the 
 moderate party, but his ungovernable temper, his preju- 
 dices, and even his very virtues, were so in excess, that 
 his relations with the young General-in-Chief, were soon 
 tinged with bitterness, which was rapidly amounting to 
 hatred. We have just seen the decision with which 
 the youthful commander discharged his debt toward 
 his redoubtable adversary. 
 
GflfflRAL HOCHK. 133 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GENERAL HOCHE. 
 
 WE are conscious that we should apologize for 
 placing in the corner of our lightly sketched 
 picture, one of the most brilliant, as well as one of the 
 purest, figures of our Revolutionary annals Lazan 
 Hoche, then General-in-Chief of the army, on the coast 
 of Brest, who was soon to unite under his command, all 
 the forces of the Republic, in Brittany and Vendee, 
 had not yet reached his twr nty-seventh birth-day. His 
 tall figure, the singular beauty of his features, the 
 soldier-like. and frank expression of his face, the modest 
 gravity of his bearing, were all indicative of strength and 
 intellect; he imposed respect, and won confidence. Like 
 the Roman Ambassador, the young hero of the new 
 Republic carried in his face, menaces of war, and prom- 
 ises of peace. He, alone, through the peculiar qualities 
 of his rare genius, was able to bring back to the French 
 nationality those brave and unhappy Provinces, then 
 separated by an abyss of blood ; he, in all probability, 
 was the only man, who in that upheaval of anarchical 
 passions, and gigantic ambitions, wherein perished our 
 first Republic, had opposed with success, the pow- 
 erful and disinterested personality of a Washington. 
 To him, at least, has been given the honor of a 
 
124 GENERAL HOCHE. 
 
 posthumous rivalry with him, who placed glory above 
 liberty. 
 
 But Providence marked with narrow limits this bril- 
 liant existence. The illustrious Republican, inscribed 
 his name in letters of gold upon the page of history, 
 but the characters were written with feverish haste, as 
 if ke had been moved by some sad presentiment. On 
 that haughty face, and in his very smile, one could see 
 that melancholy that still lends, after the lapse of cen- 
 turies, so touching a grace to the recollection of 
 Germanicus, a quality which is lacking when we think 
 of Caesar. 
 
 It is one of the misfortunes, if not one of the crimes 
 of a novel writer, that he is compelled to reduce to the 
 most puerile proportions, these giants of history. He 
 can, in truth, offer as an excuse, that interest with 
 which we always see these demi-gods descend from 
 their pedestal, and stand on the common ground with 
 the rest of humanity ; but carpers have none the less 
 the right to complain, and to say, that they are reminded 
 of a child who in his play, pretends to utilize the most 
 formidable machinery of war and industry. However 
 this may be, as we are convinced that errors acknowl- 
 edged, are, at least, half pardoned, we resume with 
 lightened conscience, the thread of our recital. 
 
 The General, relieved of the presence of his foe, did 
 not move for some moments. Then, with the air of a 
 man who abandons himself to the consequences of an 
 irreparable act, and wishes to give no further thought 
 
GENERAL HOCHE. 125 
 
 to it for a time, be rose and went to a window looking 
 out on the court. He, apparently, did not see, that for 
 which he was looking, and he began to pace the room 
 impatiently, stopping to look . at a clock, or from the 
 window again. 
 
 More than one quick exclamation escaped his lips. 
 " What a deception ! Men are all alike ! a hard lesson ! 
 his dupe ! his plaything ! what misfortunes he will 
 cause, and what bloodshed. An insult to me, a public 
 crime. Poor wretch ! " 
 
 A light tap on the door came at this moment ; the 
 General said " come in," in anything but a persuasive 
 tone. 
 
 The door opened slowly, and Commandant Herv^ de 
 Pelven presented himself. 
 
 General Hoche advanced slowly to meet the man, 
 whom only an hour before he had gladly called his 
 friend, and fixing his eyes upon him, began to examine 
 his face with curiosity, as if to discover under those 
 well known and aristocratic features, some secret sign, 
 some hideous suggestion of treachery. 
 
 Concluding this examination with an expressive 
 shrug of his shoulders, he seated himself on a corner 
 of the table where his sword lay, and looking Pelven 
 full in the eyes, he said: 
 
 " Where is Francis ? " 
 
 This question aroused Herv 1 from the silent aston- 
 ishment in which he had been thrown by this most 
 unaccountable reception. 
 
126 GENERAL HOCHE. 
 
 " I ask where Francis is," repeated the General, 
 raising his voice, " what have you done with him ? " 
 
 " Francis is in the courtyard," answered Pelven, 
 "we came together." 
 
 " Ah ! Tell me, sir, I beg of you, if you have suc- 
 ceeded in all your plans." 
 
 " I have, sir," replied Herve, coldly, his pride was 
 wounded by this manner, so different from the cordial 
 familiarity to which he was accustomed. 
 
 " I am rejoiced to learn this, for your sake, as well as 
 mine." 
 
 " I must confess, General, that I do not understand 
 you." 
 
 " Ah ! you can tell me, however, how the Chouans 
 are flourishing in the country." 
 
 " I can tell you, General, that from all I have seen, 
 I am convinced that an insurrection is impending. We 
 even heard artillery late last night." 
 
 " Indeed ! It seems then that your expedition has 
 been a dangerous one ? You will have your reward if 
 there be justice in this world! But in the meantime, I 
 wish to congratulate you on the specialty, which you 
 have had the good taste to select; never did I see a 
 mask of infamy, that bore so close a resemblance to the 
 face of an honest man." 
 
 The young Commandant flushed to the roots of his 
 hair. 
 
 "I cannot but see," he said, " that I am looked upon 
 as a criminal. I was warned of this, but I thought 
 
GENERAL HOCEE. 12? 
 
 that from General Hoche, an explanation would pr.eet.de 
 an insult." 
 
 Hervd's manner and tore shook the convictions of 
 the General, but before he could speak, his attention 
 was drawn to the courtyard, by the stamping of horses, 
 followed by a tumult of voices, and, almost instantly 
 Francis appeared in an evident state of excitement, 
 and with letters in his hand. 
 
 " Excuse me, General," he said, " but these are dis- 
 patches brought by two dragoons from Humbert and 
 Duhesme. It seems that the excitement is spreading." 
 
 The General, with a friendly tap on the shoulder of 
 the boyish Lieutenant, opened the dispatches hastily, 
 and ran them over muttering confused exclamations. 
 Then throwing the papers on the floor he addressed 
 Francis in a tone of suppressed rage. 
 
 " My boy," he said, " you will in this moment, take a 
 great step in your experience of life. Here is Mon- 
 sieur Pelven, our mutual friend : look at him well, and 
 remember all the rest of your life that under that loyal 
 physiognomy we have loved so well, lies hidden the soul 
 of a spy and a traitor." 
 
 et Some one has lied to you, General," said Herve*, 
 coldly, while an exclamation of terrified incredulity 
 broke from the lips of the young Lieutenant. 
 
 "I doubted, while doubt was possible," answered 
 Ilocho, "but Monsieur de Pelven, your negligence is 
 unpardonable, for experience should have taught you 
 that spies were dangerous things." 
 
128 GENEBAL HOCHB. 
 
 As he spoke lie laid before the two young officers, & 
 bit of crumpled paper, stained with mud, on which was 
 written these words: 
 
 "Pass Comte Herve de Pelven, field-marshal of the 
 Catholic and Royal army. Signed : Charette." 
 
 Herv6* looked at his Lieutenant, and murmured the 
 name " Bell ah." 
 
 44 This pass," continued the General, " was found by 
 one of our secret agents, at a place at Kergant, where 
 you encamped for the night. If other proofs were 
 wanting, this is enough in itself. Now sir, have you 
 anything to say in defence of your life, for I warn you 
 that it is in danger? Take off your sword, sir." 
 
 Herve* unbuckled his sword, and handed it to 
 Francis, who received it with trembling hands. 
 
 "General, said the young Commandant, "I swear 
 before God that I am not guilty. I am overwhelmed 
 by appearances, to which I can oppose nothing but my 
 word. That pass is authentic, but it was never in my 
 possession, I refused it. I may add that these men 
 whom you suppose to be my friends, attempted my life 
 five days since." 
 
 "Did they wound you? " asked H^he eagerly, "can 
 you show me a wound ? " 
 
 "I can not, unfortunately." 
 
 " But, General," cried Frauds, " I was tnere, i saw it 
 all, they knocked down and stunned the Commandant.*' 
 
 " I dare say," said the General, coldly. " Enough, 
 Francis/* 
 
GENERAL HOCHE. 129 
 
 "You are not a child, Monsieur cle Pelven," he con- 
 tinued, "and you know enough to realize the inevitable 
 conclusion of this matter. Shall it end here between 
 us two, or shall I summon a court of inquiry ? " 
 
 " I desire no other judge than yourself, General." 
 
 44 You may be certain that you will have none more 
 disposed in your favor. You have deceived me 
 strangely, cruelly deceived me, I may say. There may 
 have been a certain amount of courage and sagacity 
 evinced in your role, but it is certainly not one that I 
 should have coveted had I been in your place. I was 
 
 very far, sir ," and the General's voice faltered and 
 
 became almost tender, " I was very far from imagining 
 that our friendly relations would end like this; it is 
 with profound sorrow " 
 
 The General, disturbed by the sobs which Francis 
 could no longer restrain, suddenly ceased to speak. 
 He opened the door, and calling to one of the soldiers 
 in the ante-chamber, he said to him, 
 
 44 Citizen Pelven is your prisoner, you are responsible 
 for him. Lieutenant Francis, wait for me in that 
 room." 
 
 The young Lieutenant turned on his protector a 
 supplicating glance, but an imperious gesture quick- 
 ened his steps, and the door of an adjoining room closed 
 upon him. 
 
 44 Monsieur Pelven," the General then resumed, 
 "they wish to carry you off to prison, and from thence 
 you know where. I took it for granted, however, 
 9 
 
130 GENERAL HOC HE. 
 
 notwithstanding all that has passed, that you would 
 prefer the death of a soldier." 
 
 u Thanks, General," said Herve*. 
 
 u You have fifteen minutes, sir." 
 
 Hoche turned away quickly, as he finished these 
 words, and closing the door, summoned Francis to join 
 him in the ante-room. An old corporal saluted him 
 respectfully. The General called him. 
 
 " Take fifteen men," he said, " inarch them into the 
 field on the left of the farm, load your pieces and wait 
 for the man I shall send you." 
 
 The General, leaving Francis stunned and motion- 
 less, went out of the room. 
 
 Our readers will probably have noticed with surprise, 
 that no adequate explanation had taken place between 
 the judge and the accused, that the latter had no idea 
 of the nature or of the extent of the crime imputed 
 to him ; but on the one side, the General believed that 
 he had nothing to learn ; and on the other, Pelven felt 
 that all that had happened, was but the logical 
 sequence of the plots and manoeuvres, which aimed at 
 attaching him to the Royalists, by causing him to be 
 suspected by his party. 
 
 In the days in which Pelven lived, not half of this 
 proof was needed for his condemnation, and thus he 
 saw verified, the prediction made by Mademoiselle de 
 Kergant among the Dru d stones, as well as his own 
 vague apprehensions, by which he had been haunted 
 from the beginning to the end, of this disastrous 
 expedition. 
 
GENERAL HOCHE. 131 
 
 Herve\ left under the care of the sentinel, was 
 seeking to render himself master of the instinctive 
 revolt of the chaos of ideas and feelings necessarily 
 awakened in every human being by the near approach 
 of death. His eyes, in spite of himself, were riveted 
 on the hands of the clock ; something like the breath 
 of the biblical vision, seemed to waver before it and 
 cover it with a white cloud. Passing his hand hastily 
 over his brow, the young man started to his feet, and, 
 after pacing the room once or twice, drew a long 
 breath, as i he felt that he was victorious in the strug- 
 gle through which he had come. He seated himself at 
 the table and wrote a few hasty lines intended for his 
 sister. Ten minutes had elapsed, and he was still 
 writing, when a slight noise made him turn towards 
 the door ; standing there he saw Hoche. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, if I disturb you," said the General, 
 with his eyes fixed on those of the young man, " but it 
 seems to me that you can have no objection now, to 
 telling me the name of the Bourbon, who, in his 
 feminine disguise, and in the suite of your relatives, 
 was landed on the 3oast of Brittany through your kind 
 assistance ? " 
 
 At this clearly stated question, such an expression 
 of utter stupefaction appeared on Herve"s usually keen 
 face, that the General smiled faintly. 
 
 " I knew it General ! I would have wagered my 
 head on it," cried Francis, rushing into the room. 
 
 M Be off with you," said Hoche, with an impatient 
 
135 GENERAL HOCHE. 
 
 gesture, which the youthful aide-de-camp did not see 
 lit to obey. 
 
 " It seems to me, Monsieur Pelven," continued the 
 General, " that you did not suppose me to be so well 
 informed." 
 
 44 He is innocent, General ! " cried Francis, in a state 
 of intense excitement. 
 
 " Upon my honor, General," stammered Herve*, " I 
 know nothing of what you are saying." 
 
 A smile appeared on the young General's handsome 
 face. 
 
 "Vive la Republique ! " shouted Francis, throwing his 
 arm around Pelven's neck. 
 
 " You see, Commandant," said Hoche, "that the con- 
 fidence and affection of your Lieutenant are unshaken, 
 but you will excuse me if I feel differently. You are 
 guilty of the most excessive imprudence, if of nothing 
 worse. The truth is, we have thanks to you, a 
 Bourbon once more among us. It is not necessary to 
 enumerate the misfortunes which are sure to come in 
 his train, but how is it possible for me to believe, that 
 your suspicions were not aroused during your long 
 journey ? " 
 
 A pin-hole letting in the tiniest shaft of light upon 
 a drama by which we have been duped, is often enough 
 to enable us to understand a mystery that has puzzled 
 us for a long time. 
 
 Thus it was that Herve's memory instantly recalled 
 all the equivocal situations of his journey, the extreme 
 
GfctfEfcAL nOCHfc. 133 
 
 reserve of the Scotch woman, the scenes at the chateau 
 de la Groac'h, the words, and strange persistence of 
 Bellah, that night among the Druid stones, and finally 
 the person who had followed Mademoiselle de Kergant 
 in her nocturnal expedition. This last recollection 
 penetrated the wounded heart of the young man more 
 deeply than any other. 
 
 " General," he said, " I have been bejuggled in the 
 most shameful manner. My sister is a mere child, who 
 thought the whole affair an excellent joke. As to the 
 others " 
 
 Commandant Pelven finished his sentence with a 
 prolonged shake of the head, and an expression indi- 
 cating the bitterest resentment. 
 
 The General went toward a window, where he stood 
 some minutes, with his eyes fixed on vacancy and a 
 frown on his brow, as if undecided and irresolute; then, 
 turning round, he said abruptly : 
 
 u Suppose I were to give you your liberty, Pelven, 
 what use would you make of it? Of course you see 
 that you could no longer remain on my staff. Now, 
 then, what would you do ? " 
 
 " I would go straight to the Chouans, straight to the 
 Prince, if Prince there be." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " 
 
 " I should resume my rank and my title," continued 
 the young man, hotly, "for I should require all 
 the privileges which they would give, and I should 
 say to the hero of this comedy, played at my expense : 
 
134 GENERAL nOCHE. 
 
 Monsieur, or Monseigneiu, I care little 'which, for I am 
 a gentleman like yourself I wish to Void you to 
 account, for the perilous position in which you have 
 placed, not my life, for that after all, is of small import, 
 but my honor." 
 
 " Upon my word, Herve*," and the General laughed 
 heartily and deliciously, a laugh that had in it unmis- 
 takable evidence of his youth, " upon my word," he 
 repeated, " if you are mad, I like your kind of madness. 
 I am not a man of high birth, as you well know, but I 
 can appreciate your audacity, and your determination. 
 This project is preposterous, but I am quite sure that I 
 should do the same, were I in your place, and therefore 
 I shall not oppose it. Whatever the result may be, I 
 am sure your friends will hold you blameless ; is not 
 that so, Francis ? " 
 
 " I shall go with him," said Francis, quickly, " I wish 
 to see the ladies of the court." 
 
 "Indeed! I think you will require my permission 
 first. You, Pelven, will take your sword, but I advise 
 you to discard your uniform. You must also take good 
 care of your unfortunate pass, as without it you cannot 
 reach these gentlemen; wait a moment," continued 
 the General, writing a couple of lines rapidly on a 
 square of paper. " Hide this in the lining of your coat, 
 as you may need it with the Republic." 
 
 " I am overwhelmed by your kindness, raon General." 
 
 " I would like you to forget the last half hour, 
 Pelven ; go now. May God guard you ! I hope you 
 leave me with no hard feelings." 
 
GENERA! HOCHE, 135 
 
 Herve* took the two Lands extended by the Gene- 
 ral, and said with some emotion, 
 
 "Adieu, General. I go to purchase the right of 
 seeing you again, and of continuing to serve you." 
 
 " Not me, Pelven, but France, the Republic." 
 
 " That is what I mean," said Herve, bowing low, with 
 affectionate respect, and, accompanied by Francis, left 
 the room. 
 
 A few minutes later, and Pelven and his boyish 
 Lieutenant galloped off in the direction of Rhiems, but 
 after going two leagues, Herv^ took a cross road in 
 order to avoid the town, which might be dangerous for 
 hini. There the two young men separated, two hours 
 before sunset, one to return to his General-in-chief, the 
 other to incur all the perils, toward which he was 
 impelled, contrary to all prudence, by the combined 
 sentiments of a man who had been trifled with and 
 insulted., and by those of a jealous lover. 
 
ICG A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 f I'M IE next day, at the same hour of the afternoon, 
 JL Commandant Pelven, in undress uniform, was 
 riding on the road from Ple'lan to Ploermel. He was 
 urging on his horse, that he might reach the latter 
 village before the storm which darkened the sky should 
 break. Black clouds were sweeping up from the 
 horizon, not a leaf stirred, but at intervals the dust on 
 the road showed large drops of water. The whole 
 country lay in that uneasy silence, that solemn calm in 
 which Nature seems to wrap herself at the approach of 
 danger. Suddenly a flash of lightning tore the clouds 
 apart, a terrible clap of thunder reverberated through 
 the air, and at the same moment rain and hail came 
 down in a perfect deluge. The horse of our traveller, 
 blinded by the rain, dazzled by the lightning, swerved 
 to the side of the road and stopped short, then with a 
 leap started off at full gallop. 
 
 Pelven made an ineffectual effort to restrain the 
 animal, but finally gave up the attempt, resigning 
 himself, with a certain pleasure, to this mad ride 
 when, at a turn of the road, he was nearly unseated by 
 running into a party of some ten or more horsemen, 
 who passed like a whirlwind. Herve* had only time to 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 137 
 
 see that they were dragoons of the Republic, and to 
 ask them why they were riding in such hot haste ; but 
 the rapidity of the pace at which he was going, and the 
 formidable noise of the tempest did not permit him to 
 hear their reply. He saw, however, that one of the 
 soldiers turned in his saddle, and made him a sign 
 which he understood to mean that there was danger in 
 the road he was going. 
 
 A half a league further on, Pelven saw another 
 small party of horsemen coming toward him, with the 
 same indications of haste. The young Commandant, 
 who by this time had regained control of his horse, 
 now drew up across the road, and made a sign to the 
 fugitives for these people had that air to stop. The 
 horsemen did not attempt to oppose the solitary indi- 
 vidual who checked them, but simply divided in two 
 parties, who, passing Herve*, met together again behind 
 him. 
 
 "Scoundrels!" shouted the young man in his indig- 
 nation. At the same moment he wheeled his horse and 
 started in pursuit. Catching a dragoon by his floating 
 scarf, he said with angry vehemence : 
 
 u Where the deuce are you going at this rate ? 
 
 " To Plelan to the Republican camp." 
 
 " And by whom are you pursued ? " 
 
 " The Lord only knows, sir ! They said at Ploermel 
 that the Chouans were coming. I did not believe it, 
 but I followed my comrades." 
 
 " And who are you? Where do you belong?" 
 
138 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 "To the Humbert division, which ought to be at 
 Quimpan now but we were cut off from our brigade 
 in the rout." 
 
 " Rout ! Rascal, what do you mean ? " 
 
 "Just that, mon officier and I advise you not to 
 walk about for your pleasure beyond Ploermel. That 
 is a part of the country which is just now as hot as the 
 tropics." 
 
 " And who is in command of the Chouans ? " 
 
 " Somebody who does not know what fear is, and 
 who, moreover, is as handsome as a picture." 
 
 " But who is he, animal?" 
 
 " Who is he ? Why the ci-devant Prince their god, 
 their idol ! They say it was one of our officers who 
 helped him land. My compliments to him ! " 
 
 " Tell me," interrupted Hei've*, eagerly ; " tell me 
 where the skirmish took place." 
 
 "At Pluvignse, and another at Camois. And we 
 did not disgrace our flag, mon officier. At Camois we 
 were protected by a thick wood, and we spent twelve 
 hours dancing from tree to tree. We had a good 
 chance to look at our enemy, I assure you. I saw their 
 dear Prince at my ease. I even heard him say that 
 our soldiers were the bravest he had ever seen." 
 
 " That was a compliment, certainly ; but where are 
 the Blues now?" said Herve*, gravely. 
 
 " Where are they ? " repeated the dragoon. " Who 
 can say. I only know, mon officier, that they have all 
 disappeared infantry, cavalry, and all. The very 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. W9 
 
 cannon they took, and the ammunition have one and all 
 been apparently swallowed up in the earth. There is 
 not a brace of them left. The country is as peaceful 
 as a summer morning, but we feel as if we were 
 walking on a volcano. Are you not going with us, mon 
 officier?" 
 
 44 No," answered Herve\ 44 And }^ou, my friend, had 
 better make haste out of this rain." 
 
 The dragoon, carrying his hand to his hat, took 
 from Pelven with the other the piece of silver, which 
 was a great rarity in these days, and went off at full 
 gallop. 
 
 A half hour later, the young Commandant leaped 
 from his horse before an inn on the roadside, a gunshot 
 from Ploermel, whose modest facade was decorated 
 with the traditional bush, this time in the form of a 
 branch from a pear tree. 
 
 Entrusting his horse to a boy in sabots, who examined 
 him with manifest suspicion, Pelven entered the kitchen 
 of the inn, where three peasants were seated in front of, 
 a huge chimney, talking in a low voice, but with great 
 excitement. They rose respectfully, ceased speaking, 
 and withdrew, after each looking at the uniform worn 
 by Herve" with most unfriendly glances. The hostess, 
 a woman of about forty, strongly built and with a 
 bright color in her full face, had not at first seemed 
 over pleased with the guest sent her by heaven and the 
 etorm, but by degrees she was conquered by the young 
 man's handsome face and by the politeness with which 
 
140 A SOLITARY JOtTRNEf. 
 
 lie addressed her, and her countenance softening into 
 \ smile, she finally said she would do all she could for 
 the gentleman. Here she corrected herself and said 
 hastily, "for the worthy citizen." 
 
 While his supper was being prepared by this woman, 
 Herve* took his seat on one of the benches in the 
 chimney corner, and while he dried his boots, asked 
 what was going on in that part of the country, to 
 which the discreet matron replied, that there was 
 nothing new, nothing worth repeating ; as for herself, 
 she thought it best not to talk too much, but to mind 
 her own business. 
 
 Quite disposed to agree with her on this point, .Serve* 
 replied that he was only a traveller who had no inten- 
 tion of extorting from her any secrets, and that he only 
 wished to know if there were any prospect of the 
 Royalists arriving at Ploermel. 
 
 The prudent hostess was not to be deluded into 
 making any reply, however. 
 
 During supper, Herve* complimented her on her 
 culinary talent, and on the cleanliness of everything 
 about the house, after which he made another, effort, 
 and asked if he could travel without danger of being 
 molested. 
 
 The hostess replied that, thanks to God, she was not 
 in the habit of poisoning people who supped with her, 
 and if the young gentleman, or rather the good citizen 
 to whom she was speaking, should conclude to stop 
 under her roof, he would see that the sheets were clean 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. Ill 
 
 and sweet, even if they were coarse ; as for the security 
 of the country round Ploermel, she was sure she could 
 not answer, as things were going on constantly of 
 whicli she knew nothing ; at the same time she should 
 think it quite as well if the young gentleman should 
 stay where he was, rather than continue his journey, 
 although she knew nothing which should deter him. 
 
 Herve* was obliged to content himself with this 
 unsatisfactory advice and information, the desultory 
 nature of which we have endeavored to lay before our 
 readers. He at last rose from the table, and saying to 
 his hostess that he was going to take a little walk, and 
 wished his room to be in readiness when he returned, 
 he went out. He returned an hour later, bringing 
 with him a large bundle. He paid his bill, saying that 
 he should be off early in the morning, before any one 
 was up, and then retired to his chamber, on the delights 
 of which his hostess expatiated most fluently. 
 
 The next morning, when the dew drops sparkled in 
 A ,he fresh June sunlight, a solitary horseman was slowly 
 moving along a high road to the west of Ploermel. This 
 traveller was a man in the spring time of life. A broad 
 brimmed Viat, partially concealed features which were 
 too aristocratic to be in keeping with the coarse 
 peasant's clothing which he wore. Instead of a whip 
 he held a stick with a leather thong ; his appearance, 
 except to a most suspicious observer, was that of a 
 cattle drover on a holiday. 
 
 After going about a league, this man encountered 
 
14? A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 several peasants who were carrying milk to the town, 
 and who looked after him with some curiosity. After 
 this, however, he met not another human being. The 
 few houses he passed, were closed and as deserted as if 
 a pestilence had swept over the land. In this strange 
 solitude, surrounded by the work of man's hands, the 
 traveller felt something of that solemnity and awe that 
 one feels in going through a cemetery. This senti- 
 ment was mingled with a certain alarm, for more than 
 once, as the young man looked around, he fancied that 
 behind the tall reeds, with their yellow blossoms, he 
 caught sight of a moving figure. 
 
 His surprise increased and his heart grew heavier 
 when he reached a little village lying on the border of 
 a pretty, running stream, and found it utterly deserted. 
 The houses were all standing and intact, but no smoke 
 issued from the roofs ; no faces appeared at the win- 
 dows, and not a sound came from within. The 
 traveller heard nothing except the clang of the iron 
 shoes of his horse on the badty-paved streets. He 
 adved himself what had become of the infirm and the 
 sick the old people and young children and shud- 
 dered at the terrible sincerity and energy of the convic- 
 tions or sentiments which had demanded and obtained 
 so violent and unanimous a sacrifice. He looked 
 through the wide open doors with sad curiosity; at all 
 these desolated hearthstones, these deserted shops and 
 silent work-rooms ; he saw the empty cradle of the 
 child by the side of the grandmother's vacant chair, 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 143 
 
 and near it the spinning-wheel, now dumb and motion- 
 less, as were all the other sweet symbols of domestic 
 peace. His heart sank within him at the sight, and it 
 seemed to him as if he were riding through one of those 
 cities suddenly overtaken by the eruption of a volcano, 
 from which after the lapse of centuries, the winding- 
 sheet of ashes had been removed. 
 
 The horseman hurried through the village, and 
 crossed the bridge, on one of the parapets of which, 
 stood a stone cross, the only indication of that hope 
 which brings consolation in despair. He dismounted 
 after he had passed a chateau, whose moss-grown towers 
 would have attracted his attention, and excited his 
 interest at any other time. He took his saddle from 
 his horse, and allowed the animal to graze at will on the 
 rich grass that grew by the roadside, under some mag- 
 nificent oak trees, and sitting by the side of a sparkling 
 brook, the young man took out his lunch and began to 
 eat it, listening occasionally to ascertain if there were 
 really no sounds except those of the insects rejoicing in 
 the sunshine. A harf hour later he was again on his 
 way, but hesitated when he came to two roads, as if 
 uncertain which to take; but, after some little hesita- 
 tion, he took that which led in a southerly direction. 
 
 Two leagues farther on, the traveller saw on his 
 right the ruins of a burned village, and perceiving a 
 thick cloud of smoke arising from a meadow near by, 
 he rode toward it in spite of the obstinate refusal of his 
 horse, and pushing away with his stick the branches of 
 
144 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 a thorny hedge all covered with white blossoms, he 
 saw under a mass of smouldering straw, a hideous pile 
 of men and horses. This spectacle drew from him an 
 exclamation of horror and disgust. Turning hastily, 
 he fled from the accursed spot. Meanwhile time was 
 passing, the sun was already high in the heavens, and 
 the heat was intense. After leaving these odious indi- 
 cations of the vicinity of man, the traveller went on 
 with more caution, drawing his rein occasionally to 
 listen. But around him the silence was disturbed only 
 by the rustle of the grass in the gentle breeze, and by 
 the sound of the frogs in a distant marsh. By degrees, 
 becoming accustomed to this almost fantastic isolation 
 amid a cultivated country, he ceased to think of it and 
 fell into a profound reverie. He had reached the top 
 of a long and heavy hill, when a sound like the break- 
 ing of a branch attracted his attention, and caused him 
 to look toward a group of tall beeches, which he was 
 about to pass. 
 
 Seeing nothing to excite his suspicions, either under 
 the 'trees, or among the heavy masses of verdure cloth- 
 ing their branches, he was riding quietly on, when, 
 suddenly, a second thought caused him to look back, 
 and he was startled by seeing a man's face among the 
 leaves. One eye was closed, and the other glittered 
 with a ferocious light. At the same moment he saw 
 the muzzle of a gun. 
 
 44 Hollo ! " shouted the horseman. " Are Veudtans 
 hot down in this way about here ? " 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 145 
 
 "Ah!" answered the man in the birch tree, "th*it is 
 quite a sensible question!" and as he opened his o.ye 
 and moved his gun a little, he said: " Can you tell me 
 what time it is ? " 
 
 This question, simple as it was, considerably embar- 
 rassed the adventurous traveller, for he at once realized 
 that he was expected to reply with a pass-word of 
 which he was absolutely ignorant. If he had any 
 doubt on that point it was speedily removed, by seeing 
 the e} r e of his interrogator close again, and the gun 
 moved back to its original position. 
 
 " You are making a mistake, my man," said the 
 traveller, with that coolness which extreme peril often 
 elicits ; " and a mistake which you are certain, sooner 
 or later, to regret. I come -from Anjou. How can you 
 expect me to know what is going on here. Come 
 down," he continued, in a tone of authority; "come 
 down, and I will show you a pass I have from your 
 people." 
 
 As he finished speaking, he drew from his vest 
 pocket a paper, which he shook with an imperious 
 gesture. 
 
 The mysterious personage in the beech tree responded 
 to this invitation, with an eagerness tempered largely 
 by prudence. As he emerged from his leafy screen, the 
 traveller saw that he wore the costume of a Breton 
 peasant. He glided down the tree, and slowly 
 approaching the stranger, gun in hand, he took at a 
 safe distance the paper presented by the horseman ; he 
 10 
 
146 A SOLITABT JOURNEY. 
 
 read with attention, and not without difficulty, the two 
 lines written upon it. The expression of savage 
 distrust, which had darkened his features, gave place 
 to a look of joy ; he gave a knowing wink as he 
 returned the paper, and taking off his hat, he said with 
 great respect: 
 
 " And my master, Monsieur Charette, is well, then ? " 
 
 "Perfectly well, my man. You took me for a spy, it 
 seems ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, I did ; a spy from the Blues." 
 
 " And what were you doing in that tree ? " 
 
 The peasant shook his head with a knowing air, and 
 smiling from ear to ear, he answered almost in a 
 whisper : " I was watching for them." 
 
 "But the Blues are way off; I left them at Vitr^ 
 day before yesterday." 
 
 " But they are on their way here, sir ; and coming, 
 too, at full speed. The people down there," and the 
 peasant pointed to the North, " heard it yesterday, and 
 they moved away in the night. And where, sir, may 
 you be going? to Varennes?" 
 
 "No; to Pluvignse; I expect to find the officers 
 there to whom I bear dispatches from the General." 
 
 y What officers do you mean ? " 
 'Why what are their names?" and the horseman 
 hesitated as he laid his hand on the shoulder of the 
 Chouan. 
 
 " Fleur-de-Lis, you mean?" 
 
 "Ah! yes; precisely." 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 147 
 
 "But he is at Kergant you are going away from 
 him ! " 
 
 "At Kergant? Fleur-de-Lis ? " and the horseman 
 withdrew his hand hastily. 
 
 "Yes, and Monsieur George, too; in fact, pretty 
 much all of our chiefs are there now." 
 
 " Then I must retrace my steps. I was told that you 
 occupied Pluvignse." 
 
 " Yes, at first ; but that is all changed now," 
 answered the peasant, with a little frown, as if trying 
 to understand a matter beyond his comprehension. 
 "They will tell you all that, though, when you get 
 there." 
 
 " And how do you all like Fleur-de-Lis ? " 
 
 " Holy Virgin ! How do we like Fleur-de-Lis ! " and 
 the Breton lifted his hat from his head, and. in his 
 enthusiasm, waved it in the air. " He is an angel of 
 light. You will see him, sir ; he looks like the Saint 
 George that hangs over the grand altar in our parish 
 church. Good Heavens ! how brave Jie is. The balls 
 of the Blues have no terrors for him he minds them 
 no more than he does the flowers in the hedge he has 
 a great black horse, too, who eats powder as others 
 eat oats. When the Blues see him coming they cry 
 out, ' Here is the devil !' and you should see them run ! 
 About fifty went by yesterday morning ; and," added 
 the peasant, with a sinister smile, " there are seven or 
 eight now lying in Marie Brech's meadow, a league 
 from here. Perhaps, sir, you smelled the roast as you 
 ?" 
 
148 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 At this question the traveller started; his eyes 
 flashed and his hand convulsively clutched the stick in 
 his hand. These equivocal signs did not escape the 
 Chouan, who, drawing back a few steps, fixed his eyes 
 on the agitated face of his companion. 
 1 " You fill me with regret," the horseman said, pres- 
 ently ; "regret that I did not get here earlier. I should 
 have much liked to say a few words to these rascals. 
 As you may imagine, I should like to have had my 
 turn in fighting for the good cause." 
 
 " Ah ! master, I fancy you will have that pleasure 
 where you are going," answered the peasant, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " That is what I rely on, my man ; and I hope we 
 shall meet again. Good night now, for I must push 
 on, as I do not care to arrive too late at Kergant." 
 
 "But it will be pitch dark before you can get there, 
 even if you knew the cross-cuts, which you don't. But 
 perhaps I can make you understand. You must go 
 back as far as Marie Brech's meadow, and on your left 
 you will see a little lane go straight on as far as that 
 goes." 
 
 " Thanks, my good man. And now let me look you 
 full in the face, for I want to recognize you when we 
 meet again." 
 
 " And here," said the Chouan, breaking off a branch 
 from the beech tree, " stick this in your cap, for there 
 are more guns about than you suspect." 
 
 The horseman obeyed this prudent suggestion, 
 
A SOLITARY JOTJftNEY. 143 
 
 thanked his dangerous friend once more, and rode 
 down the hill, on the summit of which he had held 
 that perilous interview, which had turned out so 
 much better than he at one time had anticipated. At 
 the corner of the fence, where lay the unfortunate 
 soldiers, he found a narrow path running between two 
 deep ditches, and so suggestive of ambuscades that he 
 would have hesitated if the branch from the beech tree 
 had not seemed to him a safeguard against surprises of 
 this kind. The rest of his journey was marked by no 
 incidents of special importance. He passed two or 
 three villages, ruined and deserted ; and more than 
 once heard among the bushes on the roadside, move- 
 ments and voices which occasioned him no little unea- 
 siness ; twice he had occasion to exchange a friendly 
 word with peasants who seemed to be devoting them- 
 selves to agricultural pursuits with an energy that was 
 not accounted for by the results ; but he met with no 
 obstacle to his progress ; nevertheless twilight had given 
 place to darkness, when the horseman entered the 
 avenue of centenarian trees that led to the Kergant 
 manor. 
 
 When he reached the middle of tins avenue, he 
 dismounted and fastened his horse to a post of a fence 
 near an open meadow. This fence he clambered over, 
 crossed the meadow diagonally, and getting over a 
 ditch, whose weak places he seemed to know perfectly, 
 he found himself in an immense garden extending 
 under the left wing of the chateau. The lights from 
 
150 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 (lie many windows served to point out the narrow 
 paths, with their borders of box. Here the young man 
 stopped and seemed to hesitate ; soon, however, le 
 resumed his progress, carefully avoiding the luminous 
 zone, but his step was less rapid now, and his move- 
 ments indicated a certain aimlessness of purpose. His 
 eyes eagerly pierced the darkness for familiar objects 
 each tree, each garden seat, statue or vase of flowers, 
 he approached and even touched with a lingering 
 movement of almost tenderness. It was as if every 
 corner was associated in his memory, with some period 
 of his life, to which he looked back with infinite regret. 
 A gentle slope led him through a little grove of 
 elms to a part of the garden that went by the name of 
 " the wood," where nature had been left pretty much 
 to herself, although certain vistas cut through the 
 black masses of fir trees, allowed the starry skies to be 
 seen. The murmur of running water was heard, 
 coming from a leaping, brawling brook which, passing 
 through the wood, was lost in a great marsh in the 
 distance. The young man followed for some rods one 
 of the winding paths, and was standing on a rustic 
 bridge thrown over the brook, when a sound of voices 
 came to his ear; so distinct was it, that those who 
 spoke must be, he knew, within ten feet. He looked 
 around, and at last saw at the end of the path, a bench 
 under a tree, on which sat a woman wrapped in an 
 ample cloak, the hood of which was drawn over her 
 head. Against a tree, close at her side, leaned a man 
 of slight figure. This man was speaking. 
 
A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 1~1 
 
 "It is unreasonable and ungrateful," said the 
 unknown, in a voice of caressing sweetness : " you 
 know how entirely, and in what way my life is occu- 
 pied. I have great and formidable duties. Were I to 
 neglect them, you would be the first to reproach me, 
 or you are not the woman I suppose you to be. And 
 how can you expect me to be other than distant at 
 times, when I have so much on my mind? ". 
 
 "Yes," interrupted the young woman, in a voice, 
 choked either through prudence or emotion ; " yes, I 
 admit all that, but it is not necessary to deceive me, is 
 it ? You do not know, you never can know, what my 
 sufferings are, when this thought comes to me " 
 
 "But all this is very foolish," answered the 
 unknown; "foolish and groundless! I know you no 
 longer. Your intrepid heart and courageous spirit 
 seem to be crushed under the most puerile presenti- 
 ments." 
 
 "You would never know me again, Fleur-de-Lis, 
 were you to deceive me." 
 
 " But I love you, my proud child ! I love you most 
 dearly." 
 
 These words, and the tone in which they were pro- 
 nounced, seemed to have restored to the young girl 
 some little confidence. She allowed her hand to be 
 taken by the person whom she had called Fleur-de-Lis, 
 and who now began to talk to her with impassioned 
 eagerness, but in so low a tone that only she could 
 distinguish his words. At a noise from among the 
 
153 A SOLITARY JOURNEY. 
 
 trees she started up, and, seizing the arm of her com 
 panion, murmured in a voice hoarse with terror, " My 
 father ! " 
 
 At the same moment a new sound struck their ears, 
 for both were now listening with acute attention ; it 
 was like the snap of a trigger of a gun. The lady 
 started back, covered her face with both hands, and 
 held her breath. 
 
 After some moments of anxiety, Fleur-de-Lis said : 
 u It was nothing, dear. Night and a wood are always 
 full of inexplicable sounds." 
 
 As he spoke, he led the lady down the path, and over 
 the little bridge. 
 
 After they had passed, the stranger, who had wit- 
 nessed this mysterious scene, stepped from behind the 
 colossal trunk of a fir tree that had sheltered him, and 
 murmured, as he thrust his pistol back into his breast : 
 
 " It was not my sister ! It was she ! I must wait." 
 
SUPPER AT TriiS CHATEAU. 153 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 
 
 THAT same evening the dining-room in the Chateau 
 de Kergant, a vast apartment, wainscotted with oak, 
 was occupied by some twenty guests, seated at a table 
 covered with a sumptuous supper. Mademoiselle 
 Andree* Pelven, with more grace than dignity, sat on 
 the right of the Marquis de Kergant, while the 
 Canoness, with more dignity than grace, occupied the 
 chair at her brother's left. 
 
 Mademoiselle Bellah de Kergant, benignant and 
 smiling like a young Queen, was in the centre of one 
 side of the table opposite the Marquis, watching with 
 sedulous care that the comfort of their guests was 
 attended to, and occasionally giving an order sotto voce 
 to the lacqueys in deep crimson, who were busy behind 
 her. 
 
 The lacqueys, as well as their crimson liveries, 
 seemed singularly out of place amid this civil war; but 
 the Canoness Ellinore was one of those who counte- 
 nanced no lapses in such matters. She had often 
 reproached the unfortunate Queen for her disregard of 
 etiquette and ceremony which, as the Canoness insisted, 
 had really been the fundamental cause of the French 
 Revolution; her admiration fur the Roman Senators 
 
154 SUPPER AT THE CIIATEAU. 
 
 who awaited the enemy, seated on their ivory chairs, 
 was immense ; and the crimson liveries of the lacqueys 
 were obstinately kept up at her own expense. Mon- 
 sieur cle Kergant, though by no means insensible to the 
 puerility of all this in such times, allowed his sister to 
 do as she pleased, because of a certain grandeur of 
 soul, which she had more than once evinced in hours 
 of peril. 
 
 The supper was served in the same careful style as 
 of yore, the table blazed with lights and glittered with 
 glass and silver ; the china upon it was exquisite, and 
 the viands were served with a profusion characteristic 
 then, as now, of Brittany. 
 
 If the Marquis and his sister, had hoped to forget 
 the present, and recall the pleasant entertainments of 
 their best years, their success was small, for the actors 
 about the table did not second the illusion. More than 
 one of them wore the coarse clothing of peasants, 
 and hands habituated to the plough, lifted the embla- 
 zoned silver. The Marquis called, and with reason, 
 many of his guests, heroes, but a feAV years before he 
 would hardly have recognized them as men. Thus it 
 was that this Revolution, which the old gentleman 
 fought without, with such intense desperation, had 
 placed her foot on his very hearth-stone he received 
 her at his table, and showed her every honor ! 
 
 The plebeian coiffe of Alix, the daughter of Kado, 
 the guide, was to be seen at the further end of the 
 table, and added another graceful touch to the con- 
 
SUITE ft AT TJTE CltATEAtT. 151 
 
 toasts of the picture. Monsieu de Kergant, of a most 
 generous and genial nature, when his prejudices were 
 not excited, wished to evince by this condescension the 
 gratitude he felt for the devotion this young girl had 
 shown to her companions in exile. The punctilious 
 Canoness could not conceal from herself that this 
 mixture of costumes and of manners, was fatal to the 
 traditions of her house. She fully realized the deterio- 
 rating influence of these contradictions on her lacqueys, 
 but she consoled herself by giving to this mortification 
 a religious coloring she compared these repasts to 
 those of the early Christians. 
 
 Some years ago we chanced to meet a survivor of 
 these Chouan wars, and we learned from him what was 
 likely to be the subject of conversation at a supper 
 given between two of these combats, and we shall 
 endeavor to reproduce it for our readers. 
 
 " This is a marriage feast, my dear Marquis ; a Royal 
 festivity," said a young man who occupied the place of 
 honor at Mademoiselle de Kergant's side, and whose 
 i-very word was received with almost exaggerated 
 respect. "I am inclined to believe that your chateau 
 is a refuge for all those illustrious cooks who have 
 been deprived of employment by the Revolution ; 
 this supper seems to me to have been prepared by 
 them as a token of their gratitude! Such a supper 
 deserves a poem in its honor, although in my opinion 
 the shorter a poem is, the better it is ! Ah ! Made- 
 moiselle, you frown; I have uttered some heresy, it 
 seems." 
 
153 STJPPEft AT THE CHATEAtJ. 
 
 "You have hurt Mademoiselle Bellah's feelings," said 
 a young Abbe, witli a refined and delicate face, who sat 
 near the Canoness. 
 
 "My daughter, Due, adores poetry," interposed 
 Monsieur de Kergant. 
 
 " But I said nothing against poetry," answered be 
 who was addressed as Due. "I was talking of poems." 
 
 "But Monsieur," asked Bellah, with a smile, "what 
 do you mean by poems ? " 
 
 " I mean, Mademoiselle , I mean , well, for 
 
 example, I mean la Henriade, which I have never read, 
 to be sure, but which I know to be very tedious." 
 
 "The author is a rascal," observed the Canoness, 
 with superfluous energy ; " I never read his Henriade 
 myself, but I am told that Jeanne d'Arc is badly 
 treated in it." 
 
 " Thank you, Madame," answered the young man, 
 "for giving me another legitimate cause of dislike to the 
 poem. As to poetry, I share Mademoiselle de Kergant's 
 taste for it ; but I am very far from admiring the many 
 lines of unequal length which go by that name. A 
 man is not a poet, because he avoids calling things by 
 their right names, and because he measures his sylla- 
 bles with more or less facility. The dreams of a 
 child may be poetry ; a young man who loves is a poet, 
 but under pain of ridicule he must relinquish, if he 
 has passed his early youth, any romance in his speech. 
 Your old Bretonne ballads, Mademoiselle, contain 
 treasures of pure poetry." 
 
SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 157 
 
 Monsieur de Kergant was about to speak, when he 
 saw his daughter rise to her feet, and stand with fixed 
 eyes and pallid cheeks, gazing at a corner of the room 
 where the door which led to the great hall, stood wide 
 open. Half of the guests looked in the same direction 
 with vivid surprise and some alarm imprinted on their 
 faces. Monsieur de Kergant turned and saw Com- 
 mandant Herv6, in full Republican uniform, but 
 without a sword, standing in the doorway. The Mar- 
 quis started up, and Andree' uttered a stifled cry. 
 
 " Monsieur," said Pelven, whose gentle, grave face 
 was pale with emotion and fatigue, " I have come to 
 ask hospitality at your hands. For motives which it is 
 easy for you to divine, there is no longer safety for me 
 among the Republicans. Warned in time, of the fate 
 that was impending, I concluded that it was more 
 foolish than courageous to struggle against this. I am 
 an outlaw, and an exile. I come therefore, to join 
 outlaws and exiles. If I have relied too much, sir, on 
 your former friendship, I will go elsewhere to drag out 
 a miserable existence." 
 
 All the guests had listened in sad silence to the 
 words of the young officer ; every eye was fixed on the 
 Marquis, whose face had lost the genial expression 
 aroused by the occasion, and resumed the character of 
 noble severity more natural to it. 
 
 " Monsieur de Pelven," he said, taking a few steps; 
 toward his unexpected guest; but instead of finishing 
 the phrase with the solemnity indi ;ated by this begin- 
 
158 SUPPEK AT THE CHATEAU 
 
 ning, he seized the young man's hand, and drew him to 
 his breast. 
 
 " HerveY' he cried, in an agitated voice, " my son, 
 my child, you are welcome ! " 
 
 This reception, which was entirely unexpected, 
 troubled Herve* sorely. The warm embrace of the old 
 man chilled the youth, until every drop of blood in 
 his veins was turned to ice. The thought of the double 
 part he was playing for the first time in his life, filled 
 him with remorse, and while he stammered forth a few 
 troubled words of gratitude and affection, his brown 
 skin grew flushed, but meeting the eyes of the person 
 who sat at the right of Mademoiselle de Kergant, he 
 instantly recovered his self-possession, and his determi- 
 nation was stronger than ever. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Marquis turned toward his guests. 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " this is the son of Comte de 
 Pelven. He has been carried away by those Revolu- 
 tionary ideas which seduced so many of our great 
 names in the deceitful dawn of these sad days. I do 
 not doubt that he has long since recognized his mistake 
 and deplored his illusions. Circumstances which you 
 know, have at last broken those chains which an 
 exaggerated sentiment of honor had forged for him. 
 I beg of you to welcome him as the son of my old 
 age." 
 
 The guests replied by shouts, and the clink of their 
 wine glasses; one among them, however lie who 
 seemed, in spite of his youth --to bo first among 
 them contented himself with a grave and polite bow. 
 
SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 159 
 
 Herve*, on the invitation of the Marquis, took his 
 place at Andrew's side ; she, poor child, was in such a 
 state of excitement that she did not know whether to 
 laugh or to cry. Mademoiselle de Kergant, more 
 reserved, or gifted with more penetration, had given 
 to the companion of her childhood, no other welcome 
 than a sad cold smile, and the eyes with which she, 
 from time to time looked at him, were full of doubt 
 and anxiety. 
 
 An embarrassed silence followed the tumult occa- 
 sioned by the arrival of the Republican. Mademoiselle 
 de Kergant's neighbor, alone looked perfectly at ease 
 and undisturbed, and did his best to renew the conver- 
 sation, which the presence of this hated uniform seemed 
 to have frozen on the lips of those who sat around the 
 table. The peculiar voice, sonorous and sweet, struck 
 Herve's ears, and the young Commandant felt abso- 
 lutely certain that he had before him, that mysterious 
 chief, the enemy and the rival he had come to seek 
 that Royalist hero, who, in such a brief space of time, 
 had caused all Brittany to ring with his name. He 
 watched him with sombre curiosity. He was of as 
 small a stature as was consistent with masculine beauty ; 
 he might be anywhere between twenty-five and thirty, 
 his hair was dark, growing thickly around a broad, 
 white brow, his mouth was almost feminine in its del- 
 icacy, but this charm, almost unappreciable in a man, 
 was redeemed by the bold lines of chin and nose, and 
 moreover, by the expression of his eyes, frank, haughty 
 and fearless, to a degree. 
 
160 SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 
 
 Pel ven had expected to find in the face of the 
 unknown, some of the characteristic features of an 
 illustrious family ; his patrician education had given 
 him such a thorough and minute information in 
 regard to the personnel of the Bourbon house, that he 
 at once felt certain that no one of the names given to 
 this young chief really belonged to him. However 
 this might be, his attitude and manner of speech was 
 of one in authority. No one was disposed to question 
 his right to his princely ways, and he used this right 
 with exquisite politeness. He was at once keen, quick 
 and affable, addressing each person in turn, and show- 
 ing a marvellous appreciation of the peculiarities of 
 each. He was a man whom nature had richly endowed, 
 and who united a certain fascination of grace and ease 
 to that of strength, and who spoke with equal elo- 
 quence to soldiers and to women. The medal had its 
 reverse side, however ; an acute and delicate observer 
 would have been startled by the brilliancy of so many 
 resources and qualities, and would have concluded that 
 there was nothing left to discover. It seemed more 
 natural to accept this young man as a master than as a 
 friend. 
 
 Herve* could not refrain from starting, when he heard 
 himself addressed by this person, whom we will desig- 
 nate as Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 " Monsieur de Pelven," he said, lifting his glass, 
 " will you allow me to drink to the happy accident, so 
 thoroughly appreciated by ourselves, which allows us 
 to claim you as one of us ? " 
 
SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU If 
 
 "Monsieur," answered Herve, trying to smile, c \inlef 
 I am greatly mistaken thanks are du*s to yoy for tLfo 
 rather than to me." 
 
 \ " I trust, Monsieur le Comte, '"' said Fleur-de-Lis, in 
 a cordial tone, " that you have forgiven the liberty I 
 took, in disposing of your services without your 
 knowledge." 
 
 "But," answered Herve\ gaily, "you can't expect 
 me to forgive a certain blow." 
 
 " Which does not lie heavy on my conscience, thank 
 Heaven ! George, my friend, answer for your own evil 
 deeds, I beg of you ; your heavy hand mast not separate 
 Monsieur de Pelven and myself. Here is your enemy, 
 my dear Comte," added the young man, indicating to 
 Hei've* a broad shouldered peasant with a round head, 
 whose loosely tied cravat allowed a Hercules-like throat 
 to be seen. " I am sure you will forgive George." 
 
 " But, Monsieur le Comte," said George, with a loud 
 laugh, " it was a question of safety for us all, and a 
 blow of the fist does not disgrace a man after all." 
 
 "I did not say that it disgraced me, my friend, I said 
 that it hurt me ! I suppose, Monsieur George, that you 
 were one of the dames who were washing their linen 
 that night in the valley de la Groac'h. May I, without 
 indiscretion, venture to ask the motive of that strange 
 masquerade ? " 
 
 "Ah! don't speak of it," said Fleur-de-Lis ; "these 
 Bretons are so brave that they are foolhardy. The^ 
 11 
 
162 SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 
 
 wished to welcome me by this jest, but they gave us 
 the greatest trouble in the world." 
 
 " But, how was it," asked Herv^, " that you escaped 
 with impunity from our fire ? " 
 
 "Ah," said George in reply, "you must admit that 
 my boys had considerable courage. I have always 
 told them to throw themselves flat on the ground to 
 let the balls pass over their heads ; you may remember 
 with what precision they executed this manoeuvre." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant rose from the table as these 
 words were spoken ; she took the hand offered by Fleur- 
 de-Lis, and, followed by all the guests, entered a neigh- 
 boring salon, the walls of which were hung with family 
 portraits. Herve, seeing once more those well-known 
 faces, witnesses of his childish sports, and protectors of 
 his peaceful years, felt a new pang added to the griefs' 
 and agitations of the present hour. While the various 
 guests, scattered about the salon, or collected in little 
 groups, indulged in those expansive conversations 
 which are apt to follow a good meal, he withdrew to 
 one of the embrasures of a deep window. Presently, 
 Bellah approached, talking, as she came, with several 
 persons, then, leaving them with an appearance of 
 carelessness, she drew near the window. 
 
 "Herve*," she said, quickly, "what are you doing 
 here?" her vcice was almost inaudible. 
 
 " God knows," answered the young man, " that the 
 most ignominious death would have been preferable, in 
 my eyes, had I had the least suspicion of what I was 
 fco see of what I was to hear I " 
 
SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 163 
 
 " Is this an enigma ? " returned Bellah, with that 
 same hauteur which was one of her great charms. 
 
 " An hour ago, Bellah, I was in the pine grove." 
 
 " In the pine grove?" repeated Bellah, meeting 
 Hervd's reproachful gaze with frank and limpid eyes. 
 Her father's voice calling her, cut short this explana- 
 tion ; the girl lightly shrugged her shoulders, lifted her 
 lovely eyes to heaven, and slowly and pensively moved 
 away. 
 
 When we are astonished at the facility with which a 
 clever man allows himself to be deceived by the woman 
 whom he loves, we forget the natural inclination of our 
 hearts, which is to hope. It is our own weak hands 
 which present to a woman the vail with which she 
 blinds us. A single word, a gesture of surprise, was 
 quite enough, to induce Herv6* to forget the proofs 
 which five minutes before, he had looked upon as irre- 
 futable. He remembered the pride and the innocence 
 of his adopted sister, he read in her frank eyes, the 
 purity and honesty of her soul, and forgot that the 
 perfection of hypocrisy, was to adorn a treacherous 
 brow with this deceptive auriole, and he already began 
 to reproach himself for having insulted, with his vague 
 suspicions, a creature so worthy of respect. 
 
 Yet this scene in the fir grove had positively taken 
 place ; of this there was no question. This idea plunged 
 Herve into new anxieties, and at this moment a 
 woman's dress swept against the curtain behind which 
 he was half concealed, he lifted his head and recog 
 
164 SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 
 
 nized the pale, energetic face of Alix. Unreasonable 
 as might be the thought that now occurred to the 
 young man, he grasped at it with eagerness, but agtiiii 
 looking toward an animated group around Bellah and 
 Fleur-de-Lis, Herve' was convinced that the young 
 Royalist hero, if he had not the claims to his hatred 
 with which he had endowed him, had not himself to 
 blame, for it was easy to see that Bellah's presence 
 excited him, and that he did his utmost to please her. 
 It was to her that his eyes dedicated his every word, 
 to her he displayed all his wealth, environed her by all 
 his prestige, as by a magic circle. Bellah was evidently 
 under the charm, although it was not possible to judge 
 of the depth of the impression upon her. Hervd read 
 in the eyes of the young girl, a certain passionate 
 admiration which revived all his doubts and all his 
 anger. 
 
 Recalling, with a start, the aim of his journey to 
 Kergant, he accused himself of wearing his mask 
 longer than was necessary. He went toward the group 
 of which his rival was the centre, and taking advan- 
 tage of a momentary silence, he said calmly : 
 
 " Monsieur, will you kindly listen to me for a few 
 moments, before you regard me as fully committed to 
 a cause which you represent so well ? I am not, to be 
 sure, in a position which would enable me to put a 
 price on my services, bnt my character should be 
 clearly defined, both for your satisfaction and my own. 
 I believe, Monsieur, that I do not err in attributing to 
 
SUITER AT THE CHATEAU. l^K 
 
 jrou all the authority that is required to give judgment 
 without appeal, in all matters that concern me." 
 
 The young Royalist's piercing eyes had been fixed 
 on Herve^s face while the young man spoke; a singular 
 smile appeared on his lips as he replied. 
 
 " I am at your orders, Monsieur de Pelven, and you 
 have but anticipated my own wishes. The evening is 
 clear, I believe, would you like to walk in the garden for 
 a half hour ? We could talk there at our ease." 
 
 Herve* bowed an assent. 
 
 "But, my dear host," resumed Fleur-de-Lis, addres- 
 sing the Marquis de Kergant, 4< are we to treat 
 Monsieur Pelven as a prisoner? I notice that he wears 
 no sword, which to a brave soldier like himself must 
 be a source of great mortification. Pray do not allow 
 this to continue." 
 
 "You remind me, Monsieur le Due," answered the 
 Marquis, " that the time has come for me to restore to 
 Flervd a portion of his heritage, which I have hitherto 
 withheld." 
 
 As he spoke the Marquis went to a table and took 
 from a velvet case a sword, which he presented to 
 Herve". 
 
 " My dear boy," he said, " this is yours, the sword 
 of your father should be entrusted only to a loyal 
 hand. I give it to you with a feeling of confidence, 
 knowing that it will never be used against our Holy 
 Cross, nor against our sacred Fleur-de-Lis." 
 
 At these words, the young Due smiled again. 
 
166 SUPPER AT THE CIIATEAU. 
 
 "I will be Monsieur de Pelven's guaranty," he said, 
 " that this confidence is well placed and that it is very 
 apropos," he added in a lower voice, turning on his 
 heel and going toward the door. Pelven buckled on 
 the sword, thanking the Marquis with the cold reserve 
 that had characterized his conduct toward that gentle- 
 man ever since his arrival, and which Monsieur de 
 Kergant explained as the natural result of this com- 
 pulsory return. 
 
 The two young men crossed a square hall hung 
 around with old armor, and traversing a bridge thrown 
 over the moat, they found themselves in the garden of 
 the chateau. By a tacit agreement they continued to 
 walk on rapidly, as if they had not yet reached a place 
 solitary enough for the explanation coveted by both. 
 As they approached the fir grove, they heard quick 
 steps behind them. They stopped, and in a moment 
 more Mademoiselle de Kergant joined them. 
 
 "Excuse me, gentlemen," she said, breathlessly. 
 " Monsieur Herv6*, I must speak to you." 
 
 Herve* could not restrain a gesture of violent annoy- 
 ance. "Mademoiselle," he replied, "you must excuse 
 me. You heard the request I made to Monsieur to 
 Monsieur le Due. He kindly granted it, and he would 
 have a right to accuse me of gr^at discourtesy were 1 
 now to postpone " 
 
 "Monsieur le Due," interrupted Bellah, quickly, 
 "is too courteous himself, not to yield to my wishes." 
 
 "Most assuredly," said Fleur-de-Lis, in a tone of 
 
SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 167 
 
 constraint most unusual to him. " Mademoiselle de 
 Kergant may always rely on the most absolute submis- 
 sion from me, but Monsieur de Pelven is unjust toward 
 me, if he supposes himself to be the only person dis- 
 turbed by this delay." 
 
 Bowing profoundly, as he concluded this sentence, 
 the young chief turned down the next path, and left 
 Bellah alone with Herve*. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant walked still further away 
 as if to avoid all possibility of being heard by any one 
 but him to whom she spoke. 
 
 "Herve," she said, abruptly, standing still and laying 
 her hand on his arm, " this must not be." 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Herve*, "I do not 
 think you understand this matter." 
 
 " Better, perhaps, than you think, and it must not 
 be, not if I am obliged to go to my father and tell him 
 all. Herve\ do not force me to this horrible step." 
 
 11 This horrible step, as you term it, is most useless, 
 since one word from your lips will take from me all 
 desire and all reasonable pretext for pushing this affair 
 further. If you refuse to utter this word, you will 
 consign me to death with your own hands, for you 
 know your father. Bellah, I saw a woman, two hours 
 ago, in the arms of that man speak ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant tottered; she caught at the 
 pedestal of a statue, near which they stood, she gasped 
 for breath, and without lifting her eyes, said slowly: 
 
 ^ That woman was myself," 
 
168 SUPPER AT THE CHATEAU. 
 
 " You! good Heavens!" crisd Herve*, recoiling in 
 absolute terror. "Then," he added, after a brief 
 silence "for I choose to have the avowal from your 
 own lips then this man is your lover?" 
 
 Bellah, whose attitude expressed shame and mortifi- 
 cation, hid her face in her hands, and her voice faint 
 and low, murmured: 
 
 " Yes, he is my lover." 
 
 " Then farewell," said Herve\ 
 
 " Where are you going," cried Mademoiselle de Ker- 
 gant, wildly seizing Herv's hand, " what will become 
 of you ? what shall I say to my father ? " 
 
 " Say to him that I came here as a spy, call me what- 
 ever name you please, it matters little to me. Adieu." 
 
 Herve" gently shook off the hand which sought to 
 detain him, and went away with a rapid step, while the 
 young girl sank on her knees before the pedestal, her 
 hair streaming over her shoulders, and her breast heav- 
 ing with sobs, the image of a supplicant at the foot of 
 an antique altar. 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 160 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A DEED OF DARING. 
 
 PELVEN leaped the hedge that separated the garden 
 from the meadow, and returned to the dark avenue 
 where his horse still stood. The poor animal, forgotten 
 amid all these anxieties, uttered a faint neigh as he 
 recognized his master, and stretched out his weary 
 head as if eager for a caress. Every man who has 
 known one of those never-to-be-forgotten hours of life, 
 marked by treachery and ingratitude, will understand 
 how deepty any evidence of attachment from the 
 humblest creature goes to the heart. Herv^ murmured 
 some confused words, and smoothed the mane of his 
 faithful companion, then throwing himself on the turf, 
 dashed the tears from his eyes. 
 
 After some minutes given to bitter meditation, the 
 young man stood erect as if to face Destiny. There is 
 a certain satisfaction in knowing the worst, for at least 
 those painful alternations of hope and despair, so wear- 
 ing to the soul, are then over. But wherever Herv^ 
 looked he saw only grief, such as it seemed almost 
 impossible for him to endure. Both Past and Future 
 seemed to have crumbled under his feet his dreams 
 of noble activity, of services rendered, of glory won 
 all those consolations, in fact, to which a man turns in 
 
170 A DEED OF DATING. 
 
 order to forget a useless weakness, were all denied him. 
 Contrary to all expectation, his mad enterprise had 
 saved neither his love nor his honor, but had left him 
 his life. Alone in this inimical country, what hope 
 had he, that he could by any gallant act reawaken the 
 iesteem of his family and friends. What was left for 
 him now to do? He was equally suspected by both 
 parties, and was regarded as a traitor by all. Under 
 what tent or in what hut, should he, a refugee from 
 both camps, seek shelter for a night ? 
 
 Wrapped in these futile reflections, the young man 
 wandered to the end of the avenue, when he suddenly 
 heard the measured step of soldiers. Before he had 
 time to take flight, he was surrounded by bristling 
 bayonets and felt the point of a sabre at his throat. 
 
 " Surrender ! Whoever you are, surrender ! " said a 
 quick, imperative voice. 
 
 " Francis ! " cried Pelven. 
 
 " Herve ! " ejaculated the Lieutenant, dropping his 
 sabre and seizing his friend's hand ; " Hervd ! God be 
 praised ! I never hoped to see you alive again." 
 
 " Francis ! " repeated Herve*, unable to recover from 
 his surprise, " what does this mean ? Whence come 
 you ? Who is with you ? Where are you going ? " 
 
 14 We are all here," said a hoarse voice, " Colibri and 
 I. We have all come in search of our Commandant, 
 or of Death ! " 
 
 " Ah ! my good old Bruidoux ! " cried Herve*, " you 
 did not believe, then, that I had betrayed you, ? " 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 1?1 
 
 "Didn't we all swallow .hat adder of a Scotch- 
 woman, Commandant? All but Colibri, who was 
 most astonishing for his years." 
 
 "But, in Heaven's name, Francis," interrupted 
 Hervd, " how did you contrive to follow me so 
 pi omptly, and get here, all of you, alive ? Where is 
 the army ? Where is the General ? " 
 
 " Further off than I like, Commandant. But, tell 
 me, did you get into the chateau ! " 
 
 " Yes, I got in, and found all those there of whom I 
 was in search. But in all other respects I failed, 
 utterly and entirely. Do not say any more on this 
 subject, but tell me, I beg of you, all that has hap- 
 pened since we parted, for I do not yet know whether 
 I am to rejoice or to grieve over this rencontre." 
 
 Francis, after leading the Commandant a little aside, 
 told him that the very night of his departure the 
 Republican army had broken camp the principal 
 corps was already at Ploermel ; three battalions, among 
 which was that to which Herve belonged, had even 
 pushed their reconnoisance as far as the deserted 
 village, through which Pelven had passed that morn- 
 ing. The story went that the forces of the Whites 
 were concentrating a little further toward the North, 
 at Pontivy. The General, anxious in regard to 
 Hervd's safety, advised Francis, who was as anxious as 
 himself, to do all that lay in his power, short of positive 
 imprudence. Francis, therefore, seeing himself only 
 three short leagues from Kergant, resolved to go there 
 
lM A DEED OP DAKING. 
 
 during the night, accompanied by some sixty meti, 
 among whom he included, at their earnest solicitation, 
 all those who had acted as escort to the emigre's. This 
 , small body of men, marching through this deserted 
 country, had met with no obstacle whatever. Francis 
 questioned the young Commandant closely, and asked 
 if the garrison at the chateau was large. 
 
 Herve* answered that there was no indication of a 
 garrison, either at the chateau or in the vicinity, and 
 that no one appeared to expect the approach of the 
 Republican army, for at least fifteen of the Royalist 
 officers had supped at the chateau with the greatest 
 gayety and tranquillity. He added some details in 
 regard to Fleur-de-Lis, and said that in his opinion the 
 real name of this person did not justify the apprehen- 
 sions of the Commander-in-Chief. " And what do you 
 propose to do now?" was the question with which 
 Herve* concluded. 
 
 " I was thinking, Commandant, if it were not possible 
 for us to lay our hands on this nest of rebels the 
 capture of this Fleur-de-Lis, would be a great feather 
 in our caps." 
 
 " But it is impossible ! " said Herve*, eagerly. 
 
 " Impossible ! And why ? Nothing would be more 
 simple with all you have discovered, and I am mis- 
 taken if we are not neglecting our duty, if we fail to 
 avail ourselves of this opportunity." 
 
 "And do you pretend, sir, to teach me my duty?" 
 cried Pel veil. 
 
A DEED OF DARING. J 7& 
 
 "Monsieur Herve* ! " said the young Lieutenant, in 
 tone Of painful surprise. 
 
 "Ah! I am in the wrong outrageously in the 
 wrong I admit it ! " answered Herve\ whose agitation 
 was excessive. " Our duty is, in fact, incontestablt 
 but you cannot surely expect me to lift my hand 
 against whom ? My father's friend the protector of 
 my infancy ? Am I to eject this old man from his own 
 house, the house in which I was treated so long as a 
 son ? It is impossible, Francis. And these women 
 am I to arrest them, too? And this young man him- 
 self whomsoever he may be is it for me to take 
 him prisoner ? No ; it would be an odious part for me 
 to play, and I cannot do it. I repeat that it is impos- 
 sible, and I will neither do it myself nor suffer you to 
 do it no, not if I lose my head in consequence ! " 
 
 " I hope, Commandant, that you will think better of 
 this, and will regard it with less repugnance. The 
 General anticipated this reluctance on your part, should 
 we meet you at Kergant. He instructed me to arrest 
 none of the women, and as for Monsieur de Kergant, 
 as his name is not yet openly compromised in the 
 hostile acts which have broken the treaty, the General 
 says that he will have permission to go to England. 
 You see, therefore, if we use this advantage, thrown 
 by fortune in our way, that, instead of doing Monsieur 
 de Kergant any harm, we shall in reality prevent him 
 from consummating his own ruin, for this desperate 
 war will, sooner or later, surely swallow him and all 
 who belong to him." 
 
174 A DEED OF DARING. 
 
 Herve* bowed assent. 
 
 "And as to Fleur-de-Lis," continued Herve\ "you 
 say he is not a Bourbon ? " 
 
 " I am sure lie is not." 
 
 "In that case, he, whomsoever he may really be, 
 is to be treated like all the other prisoners whom the 
 General agrees to receive, as if they had voluntarily 
 surrendered themselves. He will simply hold them 
 prisoners until the end of the war." 
 
 " I ought, Francis, to wish you every success in your 
 enterprise," said Herve\ " which, if all be as you say 
 and believe, is manifestly to the interest of those who 
 are dear to me. Go, then, and do your duty, but, situ- 
 ated as I am, I have no right to take command of your 
 men, even if I wished to do so. Do your duty, I say, 
 but whether it be mine or not, I shall not follow you." 
 
 Francis, although evidently annoyed at this resolu- 
 tion, made no further objections, and, without another 
 word, turned to issue a command to his men. 
 
 All at once Herve* changed his mind; it suddenly 
 occurred to him, that in abstaining from playing any 
 part in the impending drama, he was in reality obeying 
 a sentiment of weakness rather than a sense of honor. 
 His age and his rank would inspire a confidence that 
 would be refused to the young Lieutenant perhaps 
 his presence might prevent bloodshed, and scenes 
 which should desolate that almost paternal dwelling 
 that roof under which his sister had found an asylum. 
 Hastily saying this to Francis, Herve" added that he 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 175 
 
 would go with him, but that he should not himself 
 take command of the expedition, nor give the smallest 
 hint or suggestion as to the mode of procedure. 
 
 The little band then began their march. The young 
 Lieutenant, thanks to the friendly confidences made in 
 the past by the young Commandant, had a very clear 
 idea of the arrangement of Kergant; he ordered 
 Bruidoux, therefore, to cross the meadow with twenty 
 men, and to scale the garden wall. The old chateau, 
 surrounded by water, had no communication with the 
 outer world, except by the two bridges over the 
 moat one into the garden, and the other into the 
 courtyard. As soon, therefore, as these bridges were 
 held, the Marquis and his guests were prisoners, to 
 all intents and purposes. During this time, Pelven 
 relieved his horse of saddle and bridle, and set him 
 at liberty in the meadow. 
 
 The Republican column of some fifty men continued 
 to advance cautiously in the direction of the chateau. 
 There was hardly a sound, not a footfall was heard on 
 the soft turf. Occasionally the name of Fleur-de-Lis 
 was heard, whispered from one to another of the men, 
 but the two young officers exchanged not one single 
 word-*- both were agitated and both were silent. A 
 soldier requires a certain amount of danger in his 
 duties in order to make them interesting. Herve\ 
 above all, realized that his heart was still capable of 
 feel'ug new pangs, that his capacity for suffering was 
 not yet exhausted. Never had the horror of civil war, 
 
176 Jl deed of daring. 
 
 and the sad combinations which it entails, struck him 
 in so dreary a light ; in vain did he call his reason to 
 his assistance ; in vain did he summon to the support 
 of his failing resolutions his conscience and his loyalty, 
 both hitherto irreproachable. When he perceived the 
 towers of the old manor, when he had crossed the 
 bridge and stood within the court-yard, he could not 
 restrain a heavy sigh, and seizing the arm of his friend 
 with a convulsive gesture 
 
 " Francis," he said, in a hoarse voice, " this is a 
 frightful moment ! " 
 
 The young Lieutenant pressed the hand of his 
 friend in mute sympathy, and bade his men quicken 
 their pace. 
 
 Such was the security in which the inhabitants of 
 the chateau were wrapped, that the Republican detach- 
 ment had not only crossed the bridge, without being 
 perceived, but had entered the court-yard through the 
 open gate. The door of the chateau was also open ; 
 some ten or twelve steps led to the hall, and Francis, 
 leaving half of his men in the court-yard, hurried up 
 these steps, accompanied by Pelven, and followed by 
 the rest of the soldiers. Two or three servants, who 
 were in the hall, were so thunderstruck at this sudden 
 invasion that they never d-eamed of resistance. Fran- 
 cis, assuring himself that Bruidoux occupied the post 
 that had been assigned to him, bade him use no vio- 
 lence, but to allow no person to leave the chateau ; he 
 then with several soldiers, proceeded to enter those 
 
A DEED OP DAPJKG. 177 
 
 salons, the lighted windows of win ;h he had seen from 
 the garden. 
 
 The young Lieutenant, through scruples which it is 
 needless to explain to our readers, took all these steps 
 without addressing a word to Herve^ who kept close to 
 his side, like a shadow. In the room where the supper- 
 table had been laid, they met Kado, who, seeing them 
 and their bayonets, stood as if petrified, with wide-open 
 eyes and lips. 
 
 "Kado," said Herve*, at last breaking the mournful 
 silence which he had enjoined upon himself, "let there 
 be no noise, no useless resistance ; we are masters of 
 the chateau." 
 
 "Good Lord!" murmured Kado, "can this be you, 
 Monsieur Herve* ? You ! You, who " 
 
 " Silence ! Act with me now, and we will direct our 
 best energies toward preventing great disasters. There 
 must not be any bloodshed. Who is within?" and 
 Herve* pointed to the closed door of a salon opposite. 
 
 " All the ladies, sir, the poor ladies, and Monsieur le 
 Marquis, too." 
 
 "And the others?" 
 
 " All are gone, except Monsieur George and but, 
 good Lord, Monsieur Herve*, it can't be possible that 
 you " 
 
 "And Fleur-de-Lis?" said Herve*. 
 
 Kado wrung his hands in despair. 
 
 "If the Lieutenant agrees," added Herve*, "you, 
 12 
 
1?8 A DEED OF DARING. 
 
 Kado Kftd best precede us, and give the ladies soma 
 little warning." 
 
 " Go on, Kado ! " said Francis. 
 
 Kado seemed to hesitate ; then, on a sign from 
 Herve", he opened the door of the salon. He stood 
 still just within the room, and, looking around upon 
 the terrified women, he seemed to struggle for words ; 
 at last, in the voice of a judge pronouncing sentence of 
 death, he said : 
 
 "The Blues are here!" 
 
 A cry of terror rang through the room a cry that 
 entered the very soul of Herve, for he recognized his 
 sister's voice. The other women showed their fright, 
 only by the pallor that overspread their faces. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis and George, who were indeed the only 
 guests present, thrust their hands hastily into their 
 breasts. Monsieur de Kergant snatched his sword that 
 stood in a corner, and rushed forward; but the door- 
 way was already packed with soldiers, and the two 
 Republican officers were within the salon, their swords 
 in one hand, their hats in the other. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Francis, "the chateau is sur- 
 rounded. You are my prisoners ! " 
 
 A moment of profound silence followed this declara- 
 tion. Andree*, on seeing her brother, extended her 
 arms her slender form wavered, her delicate head 
 drooped like a broken lily, and she fell fonvard. 
 He.ve* ran to lift her from the floor, but Bellah quickly 
 prevented him. With the assistance of Alix, she placed 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 179 
 
 the inanimate form of her adopted sister on a sofa, and 
 then hastily opened a window close at hand. 
 Pel ven turned toward the Marquis. 
 44 Monsieur," he said, " this misfortune is in no way 
 due to me. I could neither foresee nor prevent it. I 
 ' trust that you will do me the justice to believe this in 
 spite of my presence here. I must also tell you that I 
 am totally without influence that my entreaties even 
 are valueless. I beg of you, therefore, not to aggra- 
 vate by useless resistance the present condition of 
 things. Rely on the word of this young officer, who is 
 in the confidence of the General-in-Chief." 
 
 44 And who will assure me of your word ? Who will 
 authenticate what you say ? " asked the Marquis. 
 
 44 Speak, Francis," answered Hervd, 44 and respect 
 those who can reply to an insult, only with words." 
 
 Pelven then withdrew to a distant corner of the. 
 room, and, leaning against the wall, stood dumb and 
 motionless, as if resolved to take no further part in the 
 scene enacted before him. 
 
 44 Gentlemen," said Francis, in his turn, after motion- 
 ng the soldiers to leave the room, 44 1 should have 
 hesitated to undertake this mission, if the generosity of 
 the Commander-in-Chief, had not lightened the burden 
 in some degree. These are the conditions which I am 
 permitted to propose." 
 
 The young Lieutenant then proceeded to inform the 
 Royalist chiefs, who listened without any indications 
 of surprise, of the manner in which lloehe proposed 
 to treat his prisoners. 
 
80 x DEED OF DARING. 
 
 " Nevertheless, gentlemen," continued Francis, " l 
 ought to make you fully understand that our General 
 has no authority to dispose at his will, of any member 
 of the fallen Royal family. If this declaration con- 
 cerns any here present, you alone need know it." 
 
 When Francis ceased speaking, the Marquis drew 
 his two guests aside, and began with them a whispered 
 conference, which, however was of short duration. It 
 was Fleur-de-Lis who finally answered the Republican 
 officer. 
 
 " No magnanimous act on the part of your General, 
 sir," he said, " would astonish me. His promises are 
 facts which we accept as such. Unfortunately we 
 know also, that above him is another power which 
 forces him to open his hands, and let loose his captives, 
 sometimes even, when his word has been given. Now, 
 this is a chance which these gentlemen and I, refuse to 
 accept. Here, Kado ! " 
 
 The guard, obeying this summons, placed himself at 
 the side of his master. 
 
 " Am I to understand, sir," said Francis, " that you 
 indulge in the mad idea " 
 
 "That we can defend ourselves? Yes, sir! The 
 contest is most unequal that fact we are ready to 
 concede, but we intend to try." 
 
 As he spoke Fleur-de-Lis put his unsheathed sword 
 under his left arm, and drew a pistol from his breast. 
 His three companions the Marquis de Kergant, the 
 man who was known as George, and Kado, the guard, 
 all did the same. 
 
A DEED OF DAKINQ. 181 
 
 At these threatening movements, Mademoiselle 
 
 de Kergant and Alix, the daughter of the guard, fell 
 on their knees by the side of the sofa where Andree* 
 lay still unconscious. 
 
 Francis recoiled and hastily drew a pistol from his 
 breast ; his brow contracted and he glanced at Herve*, 
 who had not moved from his position, but stood with 
 his arms crossed over his breast, calm, and to all 
 appearance, utterly indifferent. 
 
 Meanwhile the soldiers in the- next room, hearing 
 something of what was going on, again filled up the 
 doorway. 
 
 " Move a little, mon Lieutenant," cried one of the 
 soldiers. " You prevent us from firing." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Francis, in a changed voice, " I 
 beg of you, if you have any sentiments of humanity, 
 to think of these poor women " 
 
 " George," cried Fleur-de-Lis, " you will see to this 
 gentleman ! " Then turning quickly toward Herve*, he 
 continued, " Commandant Pelven, look out for your- 
 self!" 
 
 Herve* shook his head slowly, but he did not move. 
 Fie lr-de-Lis drew back a little, a strange smile parted 
 his lips and showed his glittering teeth ; his face 
 assumed an almost ferocious expression. He lifted his 
 pistol, but almost instantly his hand dropped at his 
 side as if palsied, and the pistol fell upon the floor. 
 
 A sound extraordinary in this hour of mortal com- 
 bat, the sound of a loud, prolonged laugh froze every 
 heart and silenced every tongue. 
 
183 A DEED O^ DAKttfG. 
 
 "It is my sister," said Monsieur tie Kergant in a half 
 whisper. 
 
 Every eye followed with anxiety the direction indi- 
 cated by the trembling hand of the old man. The 
 Oanoness, standing within the embrasure of the win- 
 dow that had been thrown open to give Andree air, 
 was gazing out with a fixed expression. She continued 
 to laugh, but her laugh was broken by convulsive sobs. 
 
 Suddenly she turned, and coming toward her brother 
 with a tottering step, she said : 
 
 "Why do you not laugh, too ? You are very strange. 
 Have you never seen a wedding. As soon as the 
 violins are here we will dance ! These gentlemen are 
 all invited, I presume relatives, possibly. Jean, 
 bring chairs. Gentlemen, I do not wish to give offence, 
 but the night is lovely, and it would be better to dance 
 without. The air is close here yes very close and 
 I feel I feel ah ! " 
 
 The voice of the old lady ended in a terrible groan, 
 then with a sharp cry she fell into her brother's arms. 
 
 Shocked by this terrible scene, the Republicans and 
 the Royalists forgot their quarrels and their dangers. 
 Even the energetic face of George evinced irresolution 
 and compassion. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis exchanged with him a few rapid words, 
 and then shrugging his shoulders, he advanced toward 
 Francis. 
 
 " We are ready tc follow you, sir," he said ; " we 
 surrender our arms There has been woe enough for 
 
A D E E D OF DARIXG. 183 
 
 one night. Monsieur de Kergant will agree, I am 
 sure ? " 
 
 The Marquis, turning his head a little, made a sign 
 of assent. 
 
 Francis expressed with politeness and feeling, the 
 regret he felt at having been the cause of this sorrow 
 to the family ; and it was with a sinking of the heart 
 that he realized that he must tear Monsieur de Kergant 
 away at a time like this. He, however, knew that his 
 duty was to allow no delay whatever. He announced, 
 therefore, that Fleur-de-Lis, George and the Marquis, 
 must go with him, while the other inhabitants of the 
 chateau were at liberty to remain there, though it must 
 be as prisoners for some hours at least, for they would 
 be obliged to break up the bridges to prevent the alarm 
 being given to the country round about. The young 
 Lieutenant then gave the order to his men to pull 
 down the garden bridge. 
 
 During this discussion, the Canoness had returned 
 to consciousness, but her strange replies to the ques- 
 tions addressed to her by her brother indicated that 
 her reason was seriously disturbed. Andree, with her 
 arms around her brother's neck, was weeping convul- 
 sively on his breast. Finding that Fleur-de-Lis and 
 George were already out of sight, Monsieur de Kergant 
 turned wilh precipitation toward Francis : 
 
 " May I see my family alone, sir?" 
 
 u I am afraid not," was the reply. 
 
 "Ah! then there will be no adieux," answered the 
 Marquis, and he left the sal6n at once. 
 
184 A DEED OF DARING. 
 
 Pelven, without a word, laid Andrei on the couch, 
 near which Bellah, as before, mounted guard. With 
 one imploring look, which included Bellah and his 
 heart-broken sister, Herve* turned away and joined 
 Francis, who had assembled all his men in the vesti- 
 bule. 
 
 Kado did not choose to abandon his master, and he, 
 with the three other prisoners, followed the detach- 
 ment, while the soldiers were busy throwing into the 
 moat the planks of which the bridge had been built. 
 Francis asked Fleur-de-Lis to give him his word that 
 he would make no attempt at flight. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis replied that, on the contrary, he should 
 do his best to escape. 
 
 " So much the worse for you, sir," returned Francis. 
 " You force me, then, to the most rigid surveillance-" 
 
 The double ranks of soldiers closed at once on the 
 captives, and, as an excess of precaution, each was 
 placed under the official guard of a soldier, who 
 received the most rigorous orders. After- these arrange- 
 ments were made, the signal for departure was given, 
 and the march began. 
 
 Lieutenant Francis, in his heart a little vain glorious 
 on account of the success that had attended his expedi- 
 tion, and relieved of much of the anxiety he had felt, 
 stepped off with a comparatively light heart, enjoying 
 the delicious sweetness of the starry night, carelessly 
 striking the bushes as he passed, with his sabre. Herve", 
 wrapped in his cloak, moved less cheerfully. 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 185 
 
 At the end of a half hour they reached a river that 
 ran from the west due east. 
 
 " Unless I greatly mistake, Commandant," said Fran 
 cis, breaking this long silence, which weighed heavi!\ 
 on his spirits, "this river is that which crosses the dis 
 trict where our advance guard is lodged. You ought 
 to know every inch of this country. 
 
 Herve* answered that he was right, that the road 
 running on the bank of the river led directly to the 
 little town which he had himself passed that morning. 
 "And now," said Francis, "you had best take com- 
 mand of your men." 
 
 " Not I ! for you, Francis, have acquitted yoursel/ 
 most nobly in this whole affair." 
 
 " Ah, Commandant, it is simply that chance has been 
 in my favor much more than it has in but, thank God, 
 it has all turned out well ! " 
 " I hope so," answered Pelven. 
 
 " Hope so ? " repeated Francis. " Have you noticed 
 ar^thing suspicious ? " 
 
 " What do you think of the sudden insanity of the 
 old lady?" 
 
 " Do you mean that you think it feigned? " 
 " It was probably half real and half feigned. Women 
 have this singular gift ; but I have a notion that this 
 crisis served as a means for conveying some secret 
 
 warning or advice " 
 
 Herve* started, and pointed to a faint light flickering 
 over the leaves of the trees which hung over the road- 
 side. 
 
186 A DEED OF DARING. 
 
 tk What is that ? " asked Francis, going toward his 
 men. 
 
 " Nothing, my Lieutenant," answered Bruidoux ; 
 " the prisoners are merely lighting their pipes." 
 
 Francis looked around, and saw that George and 
 Kado were indulging in the innocent amusement of 
 smoking, and in the intense darkness their pipes looked 
 like little fiery furnaces. 
 
 The young Lieutenant went back to Pelven. The 
 road along which the detachment was toiling, had been 
 for some minutes a gentle ascent, while above, rose 
 thickly-wooded hills on the left was the steep bank of 
 the river. 
 
 "I am sorry," said Francis, looking around uneasily, 
 " that we did not take the other side of the river, even 
 if it is a longer road. This gorge begins to assume 
 quite a cut-throat aspect. The mountain on the right 
 is black as night, and it seems to me, though my ears 
 may deceive me, that I hear, above the noise of the 
 wind and the water, an odd sort of noise." 
 
 kfc Forbid the prisoners smoking," said Hei've*, hastily. 
 
 Francis turned to give this order, but before he had 
 taken three steps, a sudden flash illuminated the hills 
 and the road, and at the same moment a hideous 
 uproar arose from the heights overlooking the road. 
 Three of the men who guarded the captives fell , 
 George felled the fourth with a blow from his fist, and 
 then, dashing forward, with lowered head and out- 
 stretched neck, like an incensed bull, he broke through 
 
A DEEt) OF DAfcltfG. 1# 
 
 the soldiers, making a way for his companions, who 
 followed quickly, and all disappeared in the darkness. 
 Shouts arose on all sides, and a few shots were fired at 
 random by the Republicans, without any result. . 
 
 The theatre of this most unexpected attack had been 
 chosen with marvellous discernment. It was the most 
 elevated portion of the defile. In front, at some dis- 
 tance, the road was closed by a black, moving mass, 
 sweeping down the hillside, like a torrent ; at the same 
 time a dull murmur, like the sea, rose from the hills, 
 announcing that they were occupied by a large body of 
 troops. 
 
 The Republicans saw that they were lost if they 
 took one step forward, although Hervd's first idea had 
 been to force a path, with bayonets, through the living 
 mass, but he reflected that he had already lost two- 
 thirds of his men, under the scathing fire from the 
 hills, and the order was not given. 
 
 Opposite the wood and the hills, the road widened 
 into a semi-circle, and formed a sort of promontory 
 running out into the river a bluff, rising some thirty 
 feet from the water. On this point grew a few trees 
 and a vast deal of underbrush, inky black in the dark- 
 ness. It was to this spot that the Republican soldiers 
 retreated in their first confusion and surprise. 
 
 With their back to the abyss and their faces to the 
 invisible enemy, they waited in silent suspense. 
 
 M Lieutenant Francis," said Hervd, just loud enough 
 to be heard by the soldiers, " I shall take command 
 
188 A DEED OP DARINft 
 
 *' Good ! " muttered Bruidoux ; u I am delighted. 1 
 don't mean anything against the Lieutenant, who is a 
 nice little fellow, but, Zounds ! in a time like this we 
 want something bigger ! " 
 
 Hervd ordered his soldiers to form into three lines 
 facing the hill ; then going himself to the edge of the 
 promontory, he leaned over the edge, at the foot of 
 which boiled the river, and seemed to be examining 
 the side of the rock. 
 
 " Drowned or shot ; that is about it, is it not ? " asktd 
 Francis laconically. 
 
 " Hark ! Silence ! " said Herve*. 
 
 The clear ringing voice of Fleur-de-Lis rose on 
 the air. 
 
 " Commandant Pelven," he said, " you hear me, do 
 you not?" 
 
 " Yes. sir ; I hear you," answered Herve\ advancing 
 a little. 
 
 "You are surrounded, sir," returned Fleur-de-Lis, 
 ' with the forces at my disposal. I can destroy you 
 without the loss of one drop of blood on our side. I 
 shall do this if you compel me, of course. W.e know 
 your courage and your attachment to your duty, but 
 duty stops at the Impossible ! Surrender at once!" 
 
 " In the peculiar position which I hold, sir," said 
 llerv6, in reply, " I cannot reply until I have consulted 
 with my Lieutenant. Will you give me a few moments 
 for consideration ? " 
 
 " As you please, sir," answered Fleur-de-Lis ; " there 
 is n) hurry." 
 
A DEED OF DARING. Iff 
 
 Herve* led the Lieutenant to the very edge of the 
 promontory. 
 
 "Listen to me," he said softly, but so clearly that 
 not a word was lost to his men, who listened with , 
 breathless attention. "We must pay these people 
 for their lavandieres joke, in the first place ; them 
 again, to save our honor and our lives, it is only neces- 
 sary now to do, what I have done over and over again 
 in this very same place, out of the mere bravado of 
 youth. Thanks to the darkness and to these trees, all 
 movements on this point are lost to our enemies. You 
 see that sharp projection; just underneath there is a 
 series of rough steps cut by Nature's cunning hand in 
 the rough stone. When this ends, you will find only a 
 perpendicular surface as smooth as your hand; have 
 no fear, but let go your hold, and you will fall into a 
 bed of soft sand. Enter the river just in front of this 
 rock ; the water will not reach your knees, I am quite 
 sure, or to your waist if the water be unusually high, 
 which is not likely at this season. Each man must go 
 in turn. The Sergeant will look out that the first man 
 Is out of sight. I, in the meantime, will talk with 
 our foes in order to gain time. Come, boys, keep your 
 heads ; the Lieutenant will show } r ou the road. Hold 
 well on to the roots at the side, Francis." 
 
 Francis began to speak, but Herve ordered him to 
 obey without further discussion. And in another 
 moment the youth disappeared over the edge of the 
 precipice. Then one ol* the soldiers followed. This 
 strange method of escape had awakened much gayety 
 
190 A DEEP OF DARING. 
 
 among the soldiers. Bruidoux, kneeling on the edge, 
 saluted each departure with a jesting adieu. 
 
 u Bon voyage! Don't forget me, my boy! Don't 
 stop to rest on your way ! Don't get your hands dirty ! 
 Citoyen, write us, won't you, Colibri?" 
 
 Although this plan was explained with marvellous 
 rapidity, and its execution commenced as promptly, 
 Herve* was afraid that suspicion would be aroused by 
 too long a delay. After hastily bidding Bruidoux 
 warn him when the last line of men was left on the 
 cliff, he went back to the road. 
 
 "Monsieur!" he called, "I have this proposition to 
 make to you : I will surrender at discretion, and my 
 Lieutenant, with his men, must be allowed to return to 
 his corps." 
 
 "You cannot be in earnest, Commandant," said 
 Fleur-de-Lis. " When you are all in our hands, you 
 surely cannot expect us to content ourselves with a 
 portion, however important and precious it may be." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Herve^ who asked nothing 
 better than to prolong the discussion. " I am infinitely 
 obliged for the compliment, but is it not possible for 
 you to be less exacting? It is not wise to reduce an 
 enemy to despair, no matter how feeble he may be." 
 
 "I repeat, sir," answered Fleur-de-Lis, in a more 
 menacing tone, "that I cannot believe you to be 
 serious. Have you nothing else to say ? " 
 
 " What conditions are you willing to make ? " 
 
 "I am ready to promise you your live?, provided you 
 agree to serve under the King's flag." 
 
A DEED OF DARING. 191 
 
 "You hear that?" murmured Bruidoux in the eur of 
 his superior officer. "Mori Commandant" he ml led, 
 "all but the last line are gone." 
 
 "Let them stand firm," answered Herve*, and then 
 drawing back a little, he said : 
 
 "Monsieur Fleur-de-Lis, our honor will not allow us 
 to accept such conditions." 
 
 " Fire ! " cried Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 The hill blazed with light, and a formidable explo- 
 sion re-echoed through the valley. By this light the 
 Chouans perceived the line of Republican soldiers, and 
 could not suspect the disappearance of the others. 
 Pelven had dreaded this, but had hoped that the dark- 
 ness would render the aim of the enemy inaccurate. 
 Three men fell. 
 
 "Fire! boys," said Herve* 5 "and then make your 
 escape." 
 
 The soldiers obeyed, and the speed with which they 
 retreated to the edge of the promontory may be readily 
 imagined. Bruidoux was determined not to leave his 
 Commandant, but he received an imperative order tc 
 follow his companions. 
 
 Herve* was now left alone in the midst of the thick 
 smoke that made the darkness still greater. Again he 
 turned to the Royalists. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " my Lieutenant and myselJ 
 surrender on condition " 
 
 "Shout Vive le roil" answered Fleur-de-Lis. "Shout 
 with all your heart and soul, for you ?xe a brave fellow, 
 after all ! " 
 
lte 1 DEED OF DARING, 
 
 Hervd cast one quick glance back; seeing, as he 
 thought, two or three forms still on the rock, the 
 intrepid youth again faced the enemy. 
 
 "I am willing," he began, "to save the rest of my 
 men by " 
 
 "Shout Vive le roi /" repeated Fleur-de-Lis. "No? 
 Very well then. Fire ! " 
 
 A new volley. Pelven heard the balls whistle around 
 him, but they respected him. The flash, however, had 
 shown the enemy that the promontory was vacant. 
 
 "Good Heavens! What does that mean? They 
 have disappeared ? " cried Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they have disappeared ! Vive la Bepub- 
 lique ! " shouted Pelven, waving his sword in the air in 
 his triumph ; then dashing to the edge of the rocks, he 
 disappeared down the perilous descent. Before he was 
 at the base of the rocks, balls were flying over his 
 head, and stones dropped aronnd him, but he fell safe 
 and sound on the sand by the river. 
 
 A few minutes later, a joyous shout from the opposite 
 shore of the river, announced to the Chouans who had 
 crowded upon the promontory, that Hervd was safe an A 
 sound among his men. 
 
 Before Pelven's foot fairly touched the shore, Franr 
 cis leaped on his neck. The two young men warmly 
 embraced each other. After a few moments of anxious 
 suspense, the small body of Republican troops, feeling 
 certain that the Whites had renounced their pursuit, 
 moved with a rapid step across the country. 
 
THE MENDICANT. 193 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 I^HE Civil wars of the West, had often disconcerted 
 _ the most skilful military science ; they were directed 
 on the Republican side by improvised captains, who in 
 their turn, improvised the most unprecedented tactics 
 appropriate to the locality, and to the peculiar charac- 
 teristics of their men. Invention took the place of 
 experience, and audacity, of method. 
 
 The Republican army, after the forced march that 
 had taken them to Ploermel, relapsed into anxious 
 inactivity. All reconnoisances in the vicinity were 
 fruitless. Two or three battalions swept the country; 
 they found it either deserted or perfectly tranquil. 
 They could perceive nothing that confirmed the report 
 in circulation, that Royalist troops were about to land 
 under the protection of English guns. The number 
 and subsequent movements of these forces, were the 
 object of reports so vague and contradictory, that the 
 General-in-Chief was plunged into strange perplexity. 
 
 After the bold blow struck by the Breton insurgents 
 as if to celebrate the arrival of their new chief, they 
 kept very quiet until, as we see, they rose in defence 
 of Fleur-de-Lis. A Republican brigade, dashing off in 
 pursuit of them at daybreak, had found some twenty 
 18 
 
194 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 peasants scattered over the tields or within their huts* 
 these worthy persons revealed to the soldiers in confi- 
 dence, that they thought they had heard the sound of 
 musketry at about one o'clock in the night, and had 
 at once shut themselves up. 
 
 The officers used their authority to prevent their men 
 from ill-treating these hypocrites, and continued their 
 march some two leagues further to Kergant, which was 
 found to be deserted ; several horsemen galloped on to 
 Pontivy, and came back to announce that there was 
 not the smallest indication of the Whites. 
 
 Among the regular reports in circulation in the town, 
 there was one which was received by the General at 
 first with absolute incredulity. This report was to the 
 effect that the vast Royalist army had taken refuge in 
 the forest of La Nouee*, which extended five leagues 
 northwest of Ploermel upon the Morhiban frontier. 
 Similar retreats had more than once protected, in the 
 course of the last campaign, the debris of Vende'an or 
 Breton troops, but it was difficult to imagine that a 
 victorious army, mistress of all the highways and of 
 all the country, could have deliberately and wilfully 
 enter the depths of a wood, thus retaining of all her 
 conquests, only the most indifferent, if not the most 
 dangerous position. Finally, after the return of these 
 expeditions, which had been so unsuccessful, the 
 General yielded to the force of public opinion, unrea- 
 sonable as it might appear to him, and went in person 
 to reconnoitre the suspicious locality. Contrary to hia 
 
THE MENDICANT. 195 
 
 expectations, all he saw indicated the presence of the 
 enemy. Every road leading toward La Nouee* bore 
 traces of a hasty march wheels had cut the road, 
 horses had pawed it, and injured everything in the 
 vicinity. The soil was strewed with fragments of 
 clothing, with broken wheels, and debris of furniture 
 and cooking utensils. The General drew rein upon 
 a hill, and looked thoughtfully toward this black forest, 
 which to his imagination, bristled with bayonets. He 
 fancied that he heard a distant murmur like that of a 
 gigantic bee-hive. He at once ordered two companies 
 to advance on the forest ; they were driven back by a 
 quick discharge of musketry. 
 
 It was made apparent, therefore, that the enemy 
 were there, and not disposed to conceal their presence. 
 It was only their design that they veiled in mystery. 
 They did not decline a skirmish when proffered, but 
 evidently intended to do battle in the hour and the 
 way, that seemed best to themselves. 
 
 The General-in-Chief returned to his quarters. The 
 certainty that he had acquired, only augmented his 
 anxieties ; he could not conceive what end the Chouans 
 had in view; the intelligence brought him by the scouts 
 he sent out, were so vague and often contradictory that 
 it was worse than nothing. Traitors were rare among 
 the Bretons, and more so than ever, since the chances 
 were all now in their favor. A few spies ventured into 
 the mysterious forest, but they were never seen again. 
 
 The General had no choice but to submit to the 
 
196 TnE MENDICANT. 
 
 conditions thus imposed upon him by the enemy ; five 
 days elapsed in this indecision. The lines of the 
 Republican army were extended over three leagues, 
 from Ploermel to the river we have more than once 
 mentioned, and to the little town that seemed to guard 
 it. One more topographical detail is essential, in 
 order that our readers may fully understand the events 
 which we are about to narrate. We beg them, there- 
 fore, to fix their attention on the fact that Ploermel 
 on the East, and Kergant on the West, form two sides 
 of an almost triangular plain, the Northern point of 
 which is the forest of La Nouee*. 
 
 The woodman's axe had not, at the time of which 
 we write, desecrated the forest and opened the wide 
 space toward the South which now so greatly injures 
 its extent and it3 dignity. It was in this part of the 
 forest that, on the evening of the 22d of June, two 
 persons most pitiable in appearance were slowly toiling 
 along; one of these was a begger, whose age and 
 infirmities were great; he was sustained and guided 
 by a young girl, whose height would have seemed 
 somewhat extraordinary for a woman, if fatigue and 
 possibly privations had not bowed it somewhat. This 
 poor creature had covered her ragged skirts with the 
 remains of a cloak, the hood of which was pulled well 
 forward, and half concealed features indicating both 
 stupidity and cunning. 
 
 The old man and his rags were of the sordid and 
 picturesque type of the classic beggar, a race now 
 
passing away, like many others; a certain astute 
 coquetry seemed to have arranged his parti-colored 
 rags as if to charm a painter's eye. One of his legs 
 had been amputated at the knee, and was supported 
 by a rough piece of wood; and, as the crowning touch 
 of woe, the man was blind. 
 
 The sun was setting behind dark clouds fringed with 
 gold, when this wretched pair reached a path leading 
 into the heart of the forest. The heat, in spite of the 
 late hour, was stifling ; not a leaf stirred in the trees, 
 distant thunder was heard at intervals, and clouds of 
 crows flew about, uttering hoarse caws of dismay. 
 
 " I have been a sailor in my day," said the old man, 
 "and I tell you, my child, that we shall have a terrible 
 storm to-night." 
 
 The child, as he called his companion, did not reply. 
 Her eyes were fixed on the forest, apparently measuring 
 its depths with some anxiety. The beggar pulled her 
 by the cloak, and made her sit down at his side on the 
 mossy turf beneath a tree. He talked to her in a low 
 voice for some time, apparently giving her some severe 
 admonitions and parental advice. After this brief con- 
 ference, the man seemed to make an effort, and finally 
 struggling to his feet, entered the forest, limping on his 
 companion's arm. They had not advanced a hundred 
 feet when three men appeared before them, dropping 
 from the trees like ripe fruit, and at the same moment, 
 ten or more, with guns, came out of the underbrush and 
 surrounded the adventurous pair. 
 
101 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 " Who are you ? Where are you going ? " said one 
 who appeared to be the chief of the ambuscade. 
 
 " Ah ! child," cried the blind man, " are these the 
 Blues?" 
 
 " No father," answered the girl, with a disagreeable 
 nasal twang: "these are good men, and true. They 
 won't hurt us, and you can speak out. Is not that so 
 gentlemen?" 
 
 " Let him speak," answered the Chouan, " we are 
 ready enough to listen." 
 
 " Don't make a mistake, child," said the beggar 
 "the servants of the good God and the King are not 
 usually so short with poor people." 
 
 " The times are bad, my man," answered the Chouan, 
 " and the Devil is cunning." 
 
 "Yes, my son, and it is foolish to be too confident. 
 Let me feel of your coat, for it is a long time since my 
 eyes could tell me an} r thing." 
 
 The old man placed his hand on the Chouan's breast. 
 
 " The Heart and the Cross," he murmured, " that is 
 good. Long live the King, my children ! Where is 
 Fleur-de-Lis, whom all the Saints guard? Where is 
 he? I must speak to him." 
 
 " Fleur-de-Lis has no time to waste, my good man." 
 
 " But he won't waste his time with me, my handsome 
 young soldier; that you may be very sure of! I have 
 come a long distance with this girl of mine, who has 
 just recovered from a fever, and we both need rest. I 
 said when we started, that I did not mind fatigue in 
 
THE MENDICANT. 199 
 
 the service of the King, and I don't. Ah ! think only 
 that the King will have his own again at last. When 
 that day comes they may lay me in the earth, I shall 
 be ready to go then." 
 
 "You talk too much, father," interrupted the com- 
 panion of this fanatic, "you know we were told to waste 
 no time." 
 
 " Yes, child, yes ! You are right. Where is Fleur- 
 de-Lis ? I have something for him, something which I 
 have brought out from under the very noses of the 
 Blues." 
 
 The old man laughed and thrusting his hand among 
 his rags, he brought out a package of letters carefully 
 sealed ; the envelope was marked in one corner with a 
 peculiar sign in the form of a cross of Fleur-de-Lis. The 
 chief of the squad of Chouans hesitated no longer; he 
 bade the two adventurers follow him, and led them into 
 the winding paths of the forest. They were soon 
 arrested by an entrenchment of felled trees, behind 
 which were encamped a hundred men or so. This post 
 was passed with an exchange of words uttered in a low 
 voice, but at a short distance there was another barri- 
 cade ; the forest seemed to be literally cut up by these 
 fortifications, of which many were still further pro- 
 tested by deep ditches. 
 
 Most of the men wore no other uniform than the 
 coat of the Breton peasant, with a scarf of some woolen 
 material around them, into which pistols were thrust. 
 Almost all wore heavy shoes filled with straw. Women 
 and children were hovering over the fires- 
 
230 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 The entire forest looked like a great village; cattle 
 were tethered here and there ; arms were stacked, and 
 sheep grazed around them. A confused noise of voices 
 and footsteps arose from under these forest arches 
 sometimes in a loud clamor, but more often in a monot- 
 onous murmur. But for the character of the 
 vegetation, and the costumes, one might have thought 
 the scene an oasis in the desert, occupied by a wander- 
 ing and warlike tribe. After a march of a half hour 
 or more, the guide informed the old man in a compas- 
 sionate tone that they had nearly arrived at their 
 destination. As he spoke, he turned into a much 
 wider path, above which, interlaced branches formed a 
 ceiling. 
 
 The silence that reigned in this privileged part of 
 the forest increased the effect of its obscurity. The 
 blind man felt his companion's hand tremble in his. 
 
 tk What is it," he said softly, as the guide preceded 
 them at some distance, "what impression has all this 
 produced on you ? " 
 
 "Sergeant," answered the girl in the same low tone, 
 "I am aghast and bewildered." 
 
 " Come, now," returned the old man, " this will never 
 do. Remember that this devilish forest may become 
 to us a temple of glory." 
 
 " Yes, of glory, Sergeant." 
 
 t; Yes, of glory now, and in the future. Don't you 
 wish to see your name written in letters of gold? But 
 what the deuce is that machine there? It is a cannon, 
 if I live ! " 
 
THE MENDICANT. 201 
 
 The good man continued to mutter between hia 
 teeth. The guide was conversing with two sentinels 
 posted at the extremity of this strange path; the 
 thickening twilight permitted the strangers to distin- 
 guish in a large circular space, a symmetrical arrange- 
 ment of tents and low huts; some of these huts were 
 more solid than others, and looked as if more recently 
 constructed. Several covered paths like that which 
 our adventurers had just followed, converged from this 
 point, protected by lines of ditches and barricades. 
 This camp seemed to hold in this forest the place held 
 by the donjon of the moyen age. All the elements of a 
 combat a Voutrance and of a desperate defence were 
 there assembled. This order and quiet, so religiously 
 preserved, announced the presence of the most import- 
 ant chiefs, and the discipline of picked troops ; in fact, 
 the soldiers who lay stretched on the turf, or sat talking 
 in the door-ways of the cabins wore, with few excep- 
 tions, a green coat and red vest; the uniform, in short, 
 of the Royalist chasseurs; it was this redoubtable 
 corps which had swallowed up all the heroes of the old 
 wars, after the new treaties were made. 
 
 By this time fires were lighted within all the cabins, 
 and threw their flickering light upon the groups 
 scattered over the clearing. Fierce and resolute faces 
 looked out from the darkness, and were immediately 
 lost again. The guide stopped in the centre of the 
 camp, in front of one of the oldest and largest huts, 
 before which a numerous guard was placed. He 
 
202 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 entered this hut alone, and in a few minutes emerged 
 in search of the blind man and his companion, and led 
 them into the presence of Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 The young chief was seated behind a table talking 
 with George ; two men in ecclesiastical garments Avere 
 writing on one corner of the same table, and a number 
 of officers were standing in little groups, in the space 
 between the table and the door. All conversation 
 ceased when the mendicant entered, led by his 
 daughter, who placed him directly in front of the 
 chief, and thei retired with awkward reverence. The 
 man with his letters in his hand, and his" whole figure 
 expressing intense humility, seemed to wait to be ques- 
 tioned. Fleur-de-Lis turned the light of a lamp on the 
 mysterious messenger, and studied him with his keen 
 questioning eyes from head to foot. 
 
 "Whence come you?" he said, finally, "and who 
 sent you." 
 
 "Is that you, Fleur-de-Lis? " asked the old man. 
 
 "It is I." 
 
 " What an awful thing it is to be blind," ejaculated 
 the old man, with a mournful shake of the head. " It 
 would be a cheering sight to an old soldier to see your 
 face, Fleur-de-Lis." 
 
 " You have served in the army then, my good 
 man?" 
 
 "I was at Fontenoy, my General. It was there that 
 I was shot through the knee. The King, Louis XV., 
 was there too ; we made him a bed that night of the 
 
THE MEKDICAKT. 20V 
 
 English flags, and I remember how he said that a king 
 of France ought not to like these flags except under 
 his feet." 
 
 At this souvenir, evoked by the old man, all those 
 present lifted their hats, and bowed profoundly toward 
 Fleur-de-Lis, whose color rose in his cheeks. 
 
 41 Upon my word, gentlemen," he said with a smile, 
 "this is a most unexpected encouragement for me. The 
 blood of the conquerors of Cressy and Agincourt runs 
 still in the viens of the French, it seems ; but whence 
 come you, mon brave ? " 
 
 " From Normandy, mon General. Monsieur de Frote* . 
 brought me as far as Fougens in his carriole. I have 
 made my way through the enemy's lines to bring you 
 this package. 
 
 " Ah, you are a Normand, then ? " said Fleur-de-Lis, 
 " and from whence ? " 
 
 " From the vicinity of Coutances, mon General." 
 
 " Ah ! " resumed Fleur-de-Lis, looking from the blind 
 beggar to his companion. Then addressing the man in 
 the patois of Coutances, and receiving a reply in the 
 same dialect, he said with a laugh : 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen, he is unquestionably a bona-fide 
 Normand," and at once proceeded to break the seals of 
 the package. After he hatf. read all the letters which 
 it contained, he picked up the wrapper from the floor, 
 where he had thrown it, and examined the broken seal 
 with great care ; then fixing his flashing eyes on the 
 blind man, an expression )f great anxiety passed over 
 
t6i TGS MEftDlCAtff, 
 
 his face, but the tranquil and venerable air of the 
 beggar, seemed to dissipate the vague distrust of the 
 young chief. He seated himself at the table : 
 
 "My good man," he said, "you will be obliged to 
 set out again to-night. I am sorry to compel you to 
 this fatigue, but I will arrange matters in such a way 
 that you will not regret it. You will find at the turn 
 of the Pommier Fleuri, a half league from Plelan, an 
 agent of Monsieur de Froths, who will take the rest 
 of the journey upon himself. If you love the King 
 you will allow yourself to be cut into inch bits, rather 
 than lose the note which I shall entrust to you." 
 
 As Fleur-de-Lis spoke, he began to write a few words 
 in great haste. When he had sealed and directed this 
 letter, he held it out over the table to the beggar. The 
 man instantly extended his hand to take it. 
 
 "Ah! you can see then, my friend, can you?" cried 
 Fleur-de-Lis, hastily drawing back the letter. 
 
 " Treason ! " be shouted, " treason ! Arrest the spy 
 and his daughter." 
 
 At this sound a number of soldiers rushed into the 
 hut, but the officers had already grasped the pretended 
 mendicant and his companion, after a resistance which 
 was shortened by the strong right arm of George. 
 
 The wooden leg of the beggar, his gray hair, and the 
 red locks of his daughter, were detached in the 
 struggle. 
 
 " Your name, comrade ? " said Fleur-de-Lis, when all 
 was again calm. 
 
THE MENDICANT. 205 
 
 "Bruidoux, Sergeant of Grenadiers, battalion of 
 Sanspeur." 
 
 " You know the laws of war, and you know the fate 
 that awaits you. Have you anything to say ? " 
 
 "No, nothing so far as I myself am concerned. But 
 I dragged this young fellow into the expedition against 
 his own will, and if you would let him live, I should 
 find death much easier. " 
 
 " Impossible, comrade. But we may possibly come 
 to some understanding: will you enter the service of 
 the King?" 
 
 "Why not ask if I will enter the service of the 
 Pope," answered Bruidoux, with great gravity. 
 
 u And you, young man, what is your answer? " asked 
 Fleur-de-Lis, approaching the other prisoner. 
 
 This question was followed by a long silence, during 
 which Bruidoux's brow contracted with intense 
 anguish. 
 
 " Monsieur," murmured the young captive in a faint 
 voice, " the Sergeant is my superior, he speaks for us 
 both." 
 
 At these words the muscles in the old Sergeant's 
 face relaxed, and a tear glided down his bronzed 
 cheek. 
 
 "It is a great pity," answered Fleur-de-Lis, "for we 
 can appreciate courage. Do not imagine that I am 
 asking you to betray your country, we serve France as 
 web as yourselves better than you, we think. I shall 
 give you an hour for reflection, for I am interested in 
 you." 
 
306 TnE MENDICANT. 
 
 " Benede'cite', " added the young chief turning toward 
 one of the chasseurs, " take these men into the empty 
 hut at the end of the camp, guard them well and at 
 the end of an hour, if they have not changed their 
 minds, they are to be shot. It is unnecessary to come- 
 to me for further orders on the subject indeed, I shall 
 not then be in camp at that time." 
 
 Benede'cite', an old Chouan, of rough and sulky mien, 
 placed the prisoners in the centre of a squad of chas- 
 seurs, and left the hut. 
 
 The intelligence of the bold attempt made by the 
 two Republican spies, had been circulated through, the 
 camp, and they were met by crowds of soldiers, who 
 gazed at them with eager curiosity, a curiosity which 
 was far more respectful than insulting ; for the very 
 audacity of these men had pleased these adventurous 
 spirits, whose only science was comprised in two words 
 bravery and cunning. 
 
 The captives were led to a hut a little apart from the 
 others, situated at the very end of the camp and stand 
 ing under a huge oak tree. This hut had no windows 
 but was sufficiently ventilated through the disjointed 
 hinges of a heavy door. 
 
 Benede'cite' and his men laid the two Republicans 
 on the floor of the hut, their arms and legs were tied, 
 and then coming back again placed a small lamp in the 
 corner. 
 
 41 This is your dock," said Benddicte*, " when you 
 ee it going out, your hour has come." 
 
THE MENDICANT. 20f 
 
 After these grim words the Chouan left the hut. 
 
 " Well, my boy," said Bruidoux, after meditating a 
 moment, "this is an adventure which I must admit is 
 not a very agreeable one. In the first place these 
 beasts have tied these cords so tight, that they are cut- 
 ting into my very bones. I did not care to ask them 
 to be more gentle, but I am afraid, my poor Colibri, 
 that they have not treated you in any better fashion." 
 
 " No, Sergeant," answered Colibri, " but I don't 
 think it makes much difference now." 
 
 " I understand what you mean," replied Bruidoux in 
 an odd sort of voice, "but you see upon my word I 
 am as hoarse as a crow, I must have taken cold. Ah ! 
 Colibri, I feel pretty badly ; for me it does not matter, 
 but my heart sinks when I think about you, and that it 
 was I who led you into this scrape. But I swear to 
 you, Colibri, I thought I was making your fortune. I 
 had always liked you, and I believed your superiors 
 and your companions would think all the better of you 
 after an expedition of this kind. It was a good idea, 
 Colibri, an excellent idea, but just now I don't like it 
 as well. Colibri, you must tell me, my boy, if if 
 that is, to say you must tell me if you forgive me." 
 
 " I forgive you with all my heart, Sergeant," 
 answered Colibri, "I am well aware that it was for my 
 good, although the plan has not succee led." 
 
 " You are a brave fellow," murmured Bruidoux, 
 whose voice was hoarser than before. Then, after a 
 brief silence, he repeated: 
 
208 THE MEJJDiCAKf. 
 
 " Yes, you are a brave fellow, and you can always 
 boast of having won my esteem, though I don't see 
 what good that will ever do you." 
 
 "Then there is no hope?" asked the young man. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," answered the Sergeant, once 
 more speaking in his old pompous voice, "the doctors 
 say that while there is life there is hope. But as to 
 saying, that I regard our present position as an advan- 
 tageous one, I must frankly say I do not. The enemy 
 have a great advantage over us an advantage that 
 6eems to me decisive. I say so, for I don't like decep- 
 tion in an hour like this. I suppose we had best make 
 those reflections which are suitable to -the occasion." 
 
 A new silence succeeded this somewhat involved 
 declaration from the old Sergeant. A sudden flash of 
 lightning coming through the cracks of the door, paled 
 the light of the lamp, and a great crash of thunder, at 
 the same moment, showed that the storm which had 
 been gathering all the evening, had at last burst over 
 the forest. 
 
 " Once, at the farm," said Colibri, " the lightning set 
 fire to a barn, and after that my father, in a thunder 
 shower, used to walk up and down the room, while my 
 mother said her prayers, in the corner by the fire, and 
 this greatly comforted my father." 
 
 " Of course it did, my boy," Bruidoux replied, "and 
 what were the prayers this good worn in recited." 
 
 "Well, Sergeant, I don't know how to tell you 
 xactly, but they were prayers to the ban Dieu." 
 
THE MEXDICANT. 209 
 
 "Do you remember tliem, Colibri?" 
 
 44 Yes, Sergeant, I think I do." 
 
 44 Well, then, my boy Bless me, what a flash that 
 was ! For a moment I thought I was blinded, and 
 who ever heard such thunder ! Ah ! well, Colibri, the 
 Republic has made a mistake I fancy, in offending 
 Almighty God, for there are hours and occasions when 
 the rights of a man and a citizen, are a poor consola- 
 tion ! As to myself, Colibri, I have never done any 
 harm to a woman nor to a child, nor even to a dog, 
 but yet if you happen to have a bit of a prayer in your 
 mind, it would be, perhaps, just as well for you to let 
 it pass your lips." 
 
 44 Very well, Sergeant," said Colibri. 
 
 44 And you may as well speak pretty loud," added the 
 Sergeant. 
 
 There was a momentary silence, Colibri was collect- 
 ing his thoughts. 
 
 44 Sergeant," he said presently, 44 this is what my dear 
 
 mother used to say " Colibri checked himself 
 
 suddenly; the door opened with a creak of its rusty 
 hinges, the prisoners realized that they were not alone, 
 but it was impossible, in the position in which they lay, 
 and confined as they were, to perceive who it was who 
 had intruded upon them in this supreme hour. 
 
 4t The lamp is there," said Bruidoux, quietly, " would 
 it not be as well if it were allowed to show some light 
 on our guest." 
 
 44 Speak lower, Sergeant," said a low masculine voice. 
 14 
 
210 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 "I know those tones," murmured the Sergeant; 
 " who are you, friend ? " 
 
 " Kado ! " 
 
 u Ah! the father of the small citizen with the trp . 
 Have you come to our assistance, my friend ? " 
 
 " Speak lower, I tell you, the door is wide open, and 
 the sentinel as he passes, is never more than ten feet 
 away." 
 
 At the same moment, the sentry stopped near the 
 door. 
 
 " The prisoners," said Kado, " were just asking me 
 to assist them to change their position." 
 
 " All right," said the soldier, resuming his steady 
 pace in front of the door. 
 
 Kado knelt down by the side of the captives ; there 
 was a gleam as of a knife, and in a second the cords 
 that bound the prisoners were cut. 
 
 " If you value your lives," he said, " do not move a 
 hair's breadth." 
 
 When Kado had accomplished this deed successfully, 
 lie stood up and began to talk to the prisoners in a low 
 monotonous voice, changing his tone and the sense of 
 his words, according as the sentinel came nearer or 
 passed further on. 
 
 "You have only one half hour; the King is a good 
 master! In ten minutes, when the storm is at its 
 height you will serve in good company your limbs 
 will be very numb. Yes, Fleur-de-Lis promises you 
 each an officer's commission. I leave my knife here 
 
THE MENDICANT. 21 1 
 
 under the straw. Take it, and tear away the thatched 
 roof just where the trunk of the oak passes through it. 
 The cause of the King is that of God, and will surely 
 triumph! The branches of the oak extend over the 
 thicket; these are unsafe. No, there is no shame in 
 going back to the right course but the lowest branch 
 and the heaviest, supports the trellis covering the next 
 path. Follow that branch as far as it goes, and then 
 crawl on your hands and knees over the branches 
 which are woven together. I am very sorry. It is a 
 sad end for men like yourselves. When you reach the 
 end of the trellis, drop to the ground. The lad whose 
 life you saved will be waiting for you there. Farewell, 
 then, since you refuse all our offers." 
 
 "And what have they decided?" asked the sentinel, 
 coming just within the door. 
 
 " To die," answered Kado. " Let them alone it is 
 no use to urge them further. Good night, comrade." 
 
 " It is such a deuced rain storm," replied the soldier, 
 " that I think I will stay under this shelter, until the 
 hour is up." 
 
 " Just as you please," said Kado, carelessly. " Only 
 if you were in their shoes, I think you would like to 
 talk to your friend, without a stranger hearing evei-y 
 word you say." 
 
 The soldier yielded to this objection with a sulky air 
 and went out with the old Breton. 
 
 As soon as the door closed, Bruiloux uttered a 
 Stupendous sigh, echoed by Colibri. 
 
212 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 11 Well, my boy," said the old Sergeant, " we are in 
 luck it seems. What have you to say?" 
 
 " Nothing, Sergeant." 
 
 " There is an old saying, Colibri, that every bush, no 
 matter how small it is, has its shadow. Now, who 
 'would ever have supposed that this little scamp, with 
 his top, would have protected me some clay with his 
 shadow? me, I say Bruidoux! No one would have 
 believed it, Colibri ! " 
 
 "But, Sergeant," asked Colibri, anxiously, u have 
 you understood one word of those involved directions 
 given by our Chouan friend? " 
 
 " Yes, my boy, I have understood them from begin- 
 ning to end ; and I propose to consecrate the moments 
 which our benumbed limbs force us to spend in this 
 vile place, to explaining them more fully to you." 
 
 While Sergeant Bruidoux calmly repeated the details 
 of their plan of escape to his meek subordinate 
 which commended itself to them both from its very 
 audacity the lightning became incessant, and the 
 storm increased to absolute fury ; the door of the hut 
 shook in the wind, and the water poured over the sill 
 like a small river. 
 
 Suddenly a clap of thunder, more violent than any 
 that had preceded it, was heard, and the old oak tree, 
 around which the hut was built, trembled to its roots. 
 
 " Now is the time, my boy," said Bruidoux, starting 
 to his feet, and, snatching Kadc s knife, he reached up 
 and tore the roof away from the tree. Then, sup- 
 
THE MENDICANT. 2l3 
 
 ported by Colibri, to whom was given, for the moment, 
 almost superhuman strength, he enlarged the opening 
 with his hands. The wind rushed noisily in through 
 this breach, and the lamp was extinguished. 
 
 " Courage, my child," said Bruidoux. "I will never 
 desert you." 
 
 At the same time he lifted himself upon the outside 
 of the roof. As soon as he was fairly established there, 
 he embraced the oak with one arm, and assisted his 
 companion with the other. 
 
 "We have the tree," whispered Bruidoux, "but I 
 can't find the branch. Do you see it?" 
 
 Colibri did not reply, and the two men, bewildered 
 by the tempest and blinded by the lightning, felt with 
 nervous hands for the rough bark of the oak. 
 
 "Zounds!" muttered the Sergeant, "there is no 
 more of a branch than there is in my eye, and the lamp 
 will tell our tale only too soon ! " 
 
 As ho spoke, a lurid flash showed them the object of 
 which they were in search. It was two or three feet 
 below the roof, and stretched forth almost horizontally 
 into space. 
 
 " Follow me," said Bruidoux ; " I shall slide along 
 this limb as if I were on horseback, and you do the 
 same." 
 
 As the Sergeant spoke, he dropped on the limb, 
 which, according to the directions of Kado, was to 
 serve as their bridge. The branch bent under them, 
 but as every twig was woven in with others up to the 
 extremity of the limb, it did not break. 
 
214 THE MENDICANT. 
 
 They were hard])- well started than they heard ths 
 My, " To arms ! to arms ! " behind them. 
 
 " Now, boy, show } r our metal, " murmured Bruidoux 
 { M Some seconds later, the two fugitives reached the 
 /rellis, erected like a dais over the principal avenue of 
 the camp. Suddenly a clamor of voices, and din of 
 irms held them motionless. A crowd of men bearing 
 torches passed under their very feet, running at full 
 ipeed. As soon as the last torch had disappeared, our 
 friends resumed their perilous journey. Suddenly a 
 profound sigh escaped from Colibri's lips. The Ser- 
 geant turned. 
 
 " What is it, my child ? " he asked. 
 
 " My foot has slipped through the branches, Sergeant, 
 and I cannot pull my leg out." 
 
 "Is that all? Come, now, give it a good pull." 
 
 " Impossible,' Sergeant. I cannot go on. Look out 
 for yourself, and leave me, for I do nut wish to be the 
 cause " 
 
 " Hush ! . Do not insult your superior, if you please. 
 Wait, and I will help you." 
 
 "All is lost, Sergeant," said Colibri, in a hoarse 
 voice. " Some one is holding my leg ! " 
 
 Bruidoux seized the young man's hand. A moment 
 of mortal anguish ensued, and then a childish voice 
 was heard whispering softly: 
 
 " Is that you, Monsieur le Sergeant?" 
 
 "Thank Heaven! It is the boy with the top!" 
 cried Bruidcux, drawing a long breath of relief. 
 
THE MENDICANT. 215 
 
 * Yes, it is I, my love ! " he continued. " Wait a 
 moment, and we will be with you ! " 
 
 The old Sergeant, as he spoke, was busy disengaging 
 poor Colibri's leg. When he had succeeded he leaped 
 lightly to the ground, and pressed Kado's son to his 
 heart. 
 
 The little boy led the fugitives through those paths 
 which were thickest-wooded, and conducted them in 
 safety to the edge of the forest. Bruidoux parted from 
 him with affection, and with the promise that he would 
 return his top on the first opportunity. 
 
216 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 WHILE the two prisoners were carrying out their 
 plans of escape, with a courage and audacity 
 that merited their success, a young officer of the Royal 
 and Catholic army, was moving rapidly along one of 
 the paths, indifferent to the water pouring from the 
 tops f the trees, and to the crash of the tempest. 
 Occasionally, he shook the water from his cloak with a 
 distrait air. 
 
 The sentinels, whom he passed at intervals, on his 
 saying a word or two in a low voice, saluted him 
 hastily, and when he reached a post of some importance, 
 where he was recognized by the flickering light of the 
 bivouac fire, he was surrounded by a respectful crowd, 
 whose clamorous welcome mingled with the rattle of 
 the thunder. 
 
 The wives and children of the proscribed men, 
 aroused from their sleep, came out hastily from their 
 miserable huts, repeating, with enthusiasm, the name 
 of Fleur-de-Lis. From all quarters they ran to greet 
 him ; some tried to touch his clothing or his hands ; 
 his presence seemed to them superior to that of a mere 
 mortal. Similar ovations greeted the Royalist General 
 at various points in the forest. 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 217 
 
 We ought here to lift a portion of the veil of mystery 
 which wrapped this young he id, so adored by these 
 people. This personage appeared in La Vendee* toward 
 the close of the great wars, but did not then bear the 
 name by which he is designated by ourselves 
 
 The course of events having thrown him in Le Bas 
 Maine, and later in the north of Brittany, he there 
 reunited the scattered elements of La Chouannerie. 
 
 The first thing he did was to remove the Chouans 
 from their defensive position, and to lead them upon a 
 battle-field. Astonishing good fortune followed him 
 wherever he went. Not once did he fail. Long be- 
 fore he marched at their head, had the Breton insurgents 
 become familiar with his name, and submitted to its 
 singular nfluence. 
 
 Not only were his military qualities boasted of, but 
 his marvellous activity, cool intrepidity, and the extra- 
 ordinary combination of temerity and caution, were 
 the theme of all tongues. An air of mystery hanging 
 about him and his destiny, completed the enchantment 
 of these simple and ardent natures. His personal 
 beauty, his picturesque language, his liberality, which 
 left him with but few possessions, other than his war 
 horse ; all the graceful and charming characteristics, in 
 short, which are most dazzling to the young, were 
 united in him, and made of him an almost supernatural 
 figure. 
 
 I lis soldiers adored him for his courage; he charged 
 the <;neiny with his drawn sword in his hand, and while 
 
218 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 the bullets whistled past his head, sang the battle 
 hymns, which he had himself composed. His men 
 regarded him as invulnerable. 
 
 The other chiefs and the noblesse, less carried away 
 by all these things, were, hoAvever, quite ready to pay 
 their tribute of admiration to the genius shown by this 
 celebrated partisan, for the especial method of warfare 
 in which they were engaged; but they accorded it still 
 more to the prestige of an illustrious resemblance, 
 imprinted on the valiant brow of this stranger. 
 
 This resemblance was very real. Behind the clouds 
 which enveloped the origin of this extraordinary exis- 
 tence, was concealed the shame of a woman, and the 
 crime of a king. The nobles of the west had, in some 
 degree, legitimatized, by their respect, the titles borne 
 by this young man, for they felt it wiser to display a 
 purple mantle of royalty, to these unsophisticated 
 peasants and soldiers, and thus conceal the mortifying 
 absence of those, who had a more direct right to such 
 homage. 
 
 Meanwhile, the address of the young chief in utili- 
 zing all such circumstances as could strengthen his 
 empire, his evident thirst for power, his more and more 
 marked individuality, began to disquiet the very per- 
 sons who had themselves done their best to awaken the 
 worship of which he was the object. 
 
 The rumor of his success, the e*clat of his popularity, 
 reached the ears of the princely emigres. So powerful 
 a seiviteur could not be other than displeasing to them. 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 211 
 
 The Comte tie Puisaye wrote a letter of congratulation 
 from England, which strongly marked his displeasure. 
 
 It was about this time mat negotiations for peace 
 wera opened with the Republic. The fortunate adven- 
 turer refused to participate in them, but the intrigues 
 carried on about him, left him isolated, deserted, and 
 unable to prolong his resistance, and he was finally com- 
 pelled to abandon Brittany. 
 
 A fishing boat received him on a deserted beach a 
 short distance from Saint Breune a small band of 
 devoted Chouans witnessed his departure. Before 
 leaving the shore he broke off the golden Fleur-de-Lis 
 that surmounted the handle of his sword, and gave it 
 to these faithful friends. This relic soon became the 
 name of the banished and popular hero in their narra- 
 tions. In more than one parish, the priests, in deference 
 to an enthusiasm strengthened by these souvenirs, was 
 in the habit of adding to the prayers for the King, an 
 especial prayer for the Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 Once delivered from his overshadowing presence, 
 even his secret enemies regretted him. When again 
 preparing for war, they found the old Chouanniere ready 
 enough for action, but scattered and disorganized, as 
 in the first days of their rising. No one among the 
 chiefs was strong enough to bind together again the 
 formidable sheaf of arrows they had so imprudently 
 broken in the hand of Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 The young chief was in England ; all the emigrds 
 were fating him. One of the exiled Princes, who was 
 
220 A LETfEfc OF IMPOfcTAtfCE. 
 
 also there, welcomed him warmly, thereby showing 
 that he expected further services. Fleur-de-Lis even 
 received at that time, it was said, a title which 
 recalled the theatre of his first deeds of arms ^uie 
 borrowed from the legitimate family of Louis XI V. 
 An explanation accompanied this flattering allusion to 
 the equivocal rights of the young Due. 
 
 Some weeks later, the English Cabinet decided to 
 throw into Brittany a certain division of the emigre's ; 
 one of the Princes, the uncle of the youthful King, a 
 captive in the Temple, was to command this corps. It 
 is well known that the presence of this person had 
 been for a long time solicited by the Vende'an chiefs, 
 and my readers are not ignorant of the discouragement 
 and the bitterness, awakened and often expressed by 
 the famous supporters of the Royalist cause, at the 
 eternal postponement of their rightful hopes. 
 
 The expedition was ready; it was necessary, how- 
 ever, to sweep from Brittany the scattered Republican 
 forces, and thus assure safety in the landing of troops 
 from the fleet. Fleur-de-Lis seemed the best person 
 for that task, and accepted it. His name had acquired 
 in his absence additional fame, and in two days, such 
 was its charm, every hut was empty, and he had an 
 army. 
 
 The official investiture, which, vague as it was, he 
 had received, lent him, in the eyes of the other chiefs, 
 a certain superiority; and no one disputed anything he 
 chose to do. In a brief campaign he accomplished, as 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 221 
 
 we have seen, the mission with which he was entrusted, 
 but the English fleet did not appear at the appointed 
 day. New instructions were sent to Fleur-de-Lis, 
 which lie obeyed, and muditied his original plans. It 
 was then that he abandoned the sea coast. This delay, 
 however, which was not without a certain suggestion 
 of treason, had profoundly wounded the impetuous 
 spirit of the young General ; he saw himself sacrificed 
 as the recompense of his devotion. His hatred of the 
 English, always strong, now became more violent. He 
 avowed his opposition loudly, to any measures advanced 
 or protected by their policy. 
 
 More than one indiscreet expression passed his lips 
 and aroused the old distrust in those about him. A 
 number of the chiefs were sincerely attached to him, 
 but others in their secret hearts yielded to his yoke 
 with great reluctance. They were uneasy at the 
 idolatry shown him by a whole province, and com- 
 mented with considerable sharpness on words he 
 dropped, indicative of that fatalism, common to favor- 
 ites of fortune who are habituated to success; for as 
 these men justly thought, this fatalism often conceals 
 the most ambitious schemes. 
 
 Our readers will soon see how well founded were 
 all these jealous apprehensions. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis, on reaching the encampment, found a 
 large body of cavalry there the only cavalry, in fact, 
 in the Royalist army. It was, however, most insuffi- 
 ciently equipped; half of the horsemen, like most of 
 
222 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 the volunteers in the forest, wore only wooden shoes, 
 above which they strapped pieces of leather in lieu of 
 boots. The young chief took a horse, and rode at full 
 gallop toward the Chateau de Kergant. 
 
 The Forest de la Nouee had served as an asylum to 
 the Marquis and his family, during the day following 
 the surprise of the chateau by the detachment com. 
 manded by Francis. The Marquis, wishing to avoid as 
 long as possible for his family, all the fatigues and pri- 
 vations of a life of proscription, determined to return 
 with them to the hereditary Manor. Fleur-de-Lis 
 promised to protect them through the medium of his 
 spies, from the possibility of any further surprise. 
 
 At the chateau, all the habits of the daily life of the 
 family had been resumed, for thus they hoped to delude 
 themselves into the feeling of their former days of 
 security, but this surface calm deluded no one ; cruel 
 pre-occupation was revealed in the words and even in 
 the very silence of each individual. 
 
 Bellah had fallen into a condition of alarming lassi- 
 tude ; Andred herself rarely smiled. On the evening 
 to which the progress of our tale has now brought us, 
 all the members of the household had separated as 
 usual toward ten o'clock. Bellah had been in her 
 chamber some ten minutes, and was standing with one 
 hand on the back of an easy chair, with her head 
 thrown a little forward, and her eyes fixed on vacancy; 
 she seemed to be listening with melancholy interest to 
 the noise of the storm without, and to the sad echoei 
 
A LETTER OP IMPORTANCE. 22% 
 
 that filled the corridors of the old chateau. The beau- 
 tiful face of the young girl was sadly altered, but her 
 pallor and the shadow under her eyes, added the 
 one charm of her sex in which she had been lacking 
 that of weakness. With a start she shook off her 
 melancholy, and going to a small table, which served 
 as a stand for book-shelves of carved ebony, she 
 took out a book bound in velvet, on the cover of which 
 was a cross ; but without opening it, she pushed it 
 gently aside again ; then shaking her head, with an 
 expression of anguish, she seated herself and began to 
 write. 
 
 44 Herve*, my brother, I shall never see you again. 
 Your contempt, unjust as it is, is killing me ! You 
 would hardly know me, my friend. Those about me 
 think it is fatigue and anxiety. I let them think as 
 they choose, but I am dying. I think my heart is 
 affected ; sometimes it beats so quickly that I cannot 
 breathe, and then it stops entirely, and I think all is 
 over. This terrible storm has upset me ; it seems to 
 me that each gust of wind is tearing me up by the 
 roots like some frail tree. If I am mistaken, and it 
 be God's will that I shall continue to live, these lines 
 will never reach you. 
 
 " Herve\ my whole life has been given to duty, to 
 fulfill which, I have voluntarily sacrificed myself, but I 
 ask that my grave, at least, shall belong to me, and 
 that it be pure in the eyes of all above all, in yours ! 
 When I am no more, it can do no harm to any one, if 
 
224 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 you should shed a tear or two, and this thought is very 
 dear to me. 
 
 " It must be that I am doing quite right in writing 
 thus to you, for my conscience does not trouble me, and 
 you know, Herve, how sensitive my conscience was 
 it is sensitive still, whatever you may believe. 
 
 " When my own lips bore witness to my shame, of 
 course you were right in believing me, and yet you 
 were too credulous, too prompt in your belief ! 
 
 " It seems almost incredible that you, almost within 
 this dwelling, which was our mutual home, where my 
 nature slowly unfolded before your eyes, that one word 
 I say, could efface all these dear memories, memories 
 which should have cried out in my favor. Ah ! it 
 seems to me that on the great day of Judgment, when 
 the secrets of all hearts shall be known, that were I to 
 hear from your own lips an avowal of infamy and base- 
 ness, that I should wait I should wait for the voice of 
 God Himself before I could believe them. And you 
 never doubted, never hesitated ! A single word had 
 more weight with you, than the testimony of all my life, 
 for I lied, Herve' ! yes, I lied ! and I have no excuse to 
 make for the lie, Herve*, none whatever, for those faults 
 commanded by Duty are, or should be, elevated to the 
 rank of virtues. 
 
 "I must explain all to you, since you no longer 
 understand me. I have always been faithful, passion- 
 ately faithful, to the sentiments and the ideas with 
 which our childhood was fed. I believe in the King as 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. $& 
 
 f believe in God. This double faith is all on which I 
 rest, for I see in the Future only darkness and trouble^ 
 through which it seems impossible for me to live, 
 , Indifference is a word whose sense I never grasped. 1 
 thank Heaven for having preserved my faith unshaken, 
 for to my mind there are not torments comparable to 
 those which I should have endured, had my faith 
 wavered. A lively faith, Hervd, in times like these, 
 enables a weak woman to fulfill her duties. How 
 many times I have envied our beloved Andrei ! The 
 goodness of God has measured her weakness in ap- 
 pointing her duties. She loves you she is happy, 
 and she is sleeping ! Alas ! Why was I not made also 
 for the serene happiness of home, for the simple duties 
 of domestic life ? 
 
 " God has not wished it, and I bow to His decrees. 
 It depended on me to prevent the trouble I saw 
 rising between you and this young man. It was my 
 duty to prevent it at whatever cost. There is no life 
 more precious than that of this young man, to all who 
 love the King. The King ! This name, Hervd, is one 
 no longer dear to you, and you can with difficulty 
 comprehend how it entailed this sacrifice on me. 
 You disdain our prejudices, and call our enthusiasm 
 idolatry. Herv^ ! the noblest souvenirs of our country 
 and of our families fidelity to the altars and the 
 tombs of our fathers all that is illustrious and sweet- 
 est in the Past all that speaks of virtue and sacrifice 
 to a Christian spirit of glory to a Frenchman all is 
 15 
 
%26 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 enclosed* as you well know, in that mysterious and 
 sacred circle, the Crown of Royalty. 
 
 " You say that a new order of things has begun, 
 when all these matters are as shadows. If this be so, 
 then I am not fitted for it. I ought to die, as did the 
 Pagan Virgin, on the threshold of the Temple, where I 
 offered up my last prayer. I was so far from being 
 guilty, Herve, that I did not at first understand, of 
 whom you were speaking. It is strange, I again repeat, 
 that you should have yielded such facile belief! I 
 wished to save the life of this young man, but in justi- 
 fying myself, I must not allow you to think evil of 
 another. Alix, whom you know, had made me her 
 confidante. I did not seek this mark of esteem, but it 
 at once explained your mistake. She came to me to 
 entreat me to speak to her father, in favor of one of 
 our young officers, whom she wished to marry. She 
 admitted that she met him in the grove that fatal 
 night, and that she feared to be seen there by her 
 father. The man she loves, is known by a name that 
 may have contributed to mislead you. He is called 
 Fleur-de-Genet. 
 
 "This is all, I believe, that I wished to say to you, 
 and my heart is easier. 
 
 " My friend, if your e} r es ever rest on these words, it 
 will be when I no longer breathe. This knowle<lo.> 
 takes from me much of my timidity. If I insist. 
 Hervd, that you shall hold me hi tender remembrance, 
 it is because I am worthy of it. I have struggled long 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 227 
 
 in your behalf. God has made us masters of our acts 
 and our words, but not of our hearts. Can it be that 
 you really supposed me guilty? I had resolved to be 
 as a stranger to you ever more, for neither passion or 
 pain, as I prove this day, could ever have obtained from 
 me a resolution contrary to the law of my conscience. 
 Since our interview among the Stones of the Druids, 
 you have had every reason to believe that I was noth- 
 ing more, could be nothing more, than a mere souvenir 
 to you ; but to profane the sealed tomb of my heart, to 
 give myself to another, to lay my widowed hand in that 
 of any other man " 
 
 As Bellah wrote these last words, she lifted her 
 swimming eyes to Heaven, and at the sam-e moment, 
 the door opened and Fleur-de-Lis entered. Made- 
 moiselle rose with a start. The young man stood still 
 near the door, in a most respectful attitude, with low- 
 ered head. 
 
 wt Monsieur le Due," she said, with somewhat haughty 
 gravity, 4 * my father is, I think, still in the salon" 
 
 " Excuse me, Mademoiselle," answered Fleur-de-Lis, 
 44 but I wish to speak to you alone. You may well 
 think that no ordinary matter could have induced 
 me to take a step which should offend you. I need 
 your advice, and must consult you without delay." 
 
 Mademoiselle fixed her eyes on the face of her com- 
 panion, but could detect no other expression than that 
 of great perplexity. She sank into her chair again, 
 overcome with agitation. 
 
223 Jl LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 u What is it, sir ?" she asked. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis hesitated a mom e it before replying; 
 then going nearer to the young girl who listened 
 eagerly, he said : 
 
 " You, at least, will do me justice, I feel sure of this. 
 You know whether I gave myself up, heart and soul, 
 to my often perilous duties." 
 
 "I know," interrupted Bellah, "that you have always 
 been worthy of the blood in your veins." 
 
 " But a man's patience and his self-abnegation have 
 their limits," resumed the young man. " Woe be unto 
 those who change the devotion of faithful hearts into 
 less noble qualities ! " 
 
 "These are very strange words! What are you 
 thinking of?" 
 
 " If I have not learned to be treacherous, Bellah, it 
 is not for lack of teaching. You already know much, 
 if not all of what has taken place, but nothing ought 
 to remain obscure to you ; I had been charged to des- 
 troy all, and everything, which could in any way prove 
 an obstacle to the landing of those whose coming had 
 so long been watched for. A very few days after my 
 arrival my task was fulfilled ; the sea coast was free, as 
 indeed, was the whole country, and we waited for our 
 friends and allies ; they came not, but left us face to 
 face with one of the most redoubtable armies with 
 the best General of the Republic." 
 
 " But you were duly informed, you received constant 
 orders ? " 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. %<& 
 
 " None whatever, until three days had elapsed. I 
 can not attempt to describe to you the intensity of my 
 anguish, during those long days of uncertainty and 
 abandonment. M3 7 anxieties, it is true, were not for 
 myself, but for those brave fellows who had trusted tc 
 my word, and whom I had led to a useless butchery. 
 The order finally arrived ; the fleet had been delayed 
 for reasons which were not explained to me. They 
 asked for a week's delay, during which time I was to 
 preserve all our advantages, occupy the enemy or van- 
 quish them. You know the resources of this enemy, 
 and the stuff of which they were made. Such orders 
 are easy to give, but they are not so easy to obey. 
 Whatever was the result, however, they were delivered 
 of an enemy, or of a serviteur more odious still. Bel- 
 lah, I obeyed." 
 
 " God and your honor required you to do so," 
 answered the girl, with dignity. 
 
 " That is precisely the point on which I do not feel 
 certain," said Fleur-de-Lis. " To sacrifice so many gen- 
 erous fellows I speak of my soldiers for a selfish 
 cause, is just what I do not believe that either religion 
 or honor command. Nevertheless, I obeyed. I threw 
 myself into this forest, and prepared for a desperate 
 combat ; it was clear to me that it would be our tomb 
 if the enemy decided to attack us, I also felt convinced 
 that few of them would go out alive. 
 
 " The attack, however, did not take place, and this 
 w the present state of things. The English fleet will 
 
230 A LETTER OF nrPOKTANCE. 
 
 reach Queberon to-morrow. If the Republicans are 
 warned, they will hurry to the coast. I can follow 
 them and a battle will take place. But if they con- 
 tinue in ignorance of these movements, as I Lope, 
 I may go ahead of them, and during the coming night 
 reach the sea coast before they do. 
 
 " The situation is a critical one, indeed," said Bel- 
 lah, much moved ; " why not consult my father ? " 
 
 A shadow of embarrassment flitted over the hand- 
 some face of Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 " The point upon which I am undecided," he 
 answered in a strange tone, " is whether it were not 
 wiser for me, instead of adopting either of the courses 
 I have laid before you, to leave the forest, and retreat 
 toward the North, with all my Chouans. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant, at once and fully, realized, 
 that such a step would crush, at a single blow, all the 
 dearest hopes of the Royalists, for it deprived the 
 expedition of the emigre's of all support, and aban- 
 doned them to the mercy of the Republican army. 
 She shivered with horror. 
 
 " Forgive me, Monsieur le Due," she murmured, " 1 
 am ready to give you all my attention, but my head 
 aches, and I am certain that I have not understood 
 you." 
 
 " And I am quite sure you have." 
 
 Bellah rose slowly from her seat and looked at the 
 young man with profound astonishment imprinted on 
 every feature. 
 
 " It is not possible, she murmured, " treachery from 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 231 
 
 you! And you would abandon your companions in 
 arms, abandon the Prince, a son of France, the brother 
 of the King?" 
 
 " The Prince," said Fleur-de-Lis, his lips parting with 
 a smile of bitter disdain, "the Prince is not coming!" 
 
 " It is false ! cried Mademoiselle de Kergant, " who 
 dares say that? Who dares say that a Bourbon will 
 forfeit his word, and desert his flag ? " 
 
 "He, himself, says so," answered Fleur-de-Lis, 
 throwing an open letter on the table. Bellah glanced 
 at it and a burning blush covered her face. 
 
 If history has not flattered the chivalric personage 
 whose conduct at this time wounded so many loyal 
 hearts, it is natural to suppose that no reproach would 
 have seemed to him so keen, as this blush on a young 
 girl's brow. 
 
 "England must have detained him," she murmured. 
 
 " Detained him ! If England refused her vessels, 
 was there no fishing boat which would have saved 
 the honor of Cassar ? At all events he is not coming. 
 As to the others, I can warn them in ample season, 
 they will not land, I shall betray no one but England, 
 and of that feat I shall be proud." 
 
 " But," exclaimed Bellah, with enthusiastic eneigy, 
 "what does the Man matter? Is the Crown less 
 pure, the cause less sacred ? And you abandon it ! 
 But what are you going to do? What are your pro- 
 jects? For whom will you fight? In whose name ? 
 What will keep your soldiers together? Not one of 
 our brave Bretons will follow you," 
 
2S2 A LETTER OF IMPO R TANCE. 
 
 "All will folic w me!" answered the young man. 
 w Do you think the sole feeling with which they 
 take up arms, is their regard for the King for the 
 King who is the ally of the English of the Saxons as 
 they call them their old enemies of this King who is 
 always absent who is so prodigal of their blood, so 
 careful of his own ? No, Bellah, they will be quite 
 willing for me to free them from an execrated alliance, 
 and will follow me in the name of their religion, their 
 liberty, and their menaced country. This is the cause 
 they serve, the cause to which it is glorious to devote 
 one's self. Words are nothing ! You follow me, Bel- 
 lah, and you understand me?" 
 
 " All that I understand," said Mademoiselle de Ker- 
 gant, as she fixed her cold severe eyes on those of the 
 young man, " all that I understand is, that you propose 
 to serve the Revolution in your own fashion, and to 
 your own profit. You are powerful, Fleur-de-Lis, your 
 success and your influence are such that I have always 
 felt that God sent you. But take care that He does 
 not withdraw His hand, on the day that you withdraw 
 from Him, your faith." 
 
 " God," cried the young man, " may have preserved 
 for me another destiny than that of forever serving 
 ingrates." 
 
 "But if your fatal power, Fleur-de-Lis, drags down 
 with you such simple natures as those of your soldiers, 
 do you think that you can also carry our faithful 
 noblesse with you ? " 
 
 " Some of them I know influenced by their narrow 
 
 \ 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 233 
 
 prejudices, will abandon me, while others, I am certain, 
 will march as steadily in the name of France, as in the 
 name of that King, who teaches them the lesson of for- 
 getfulness. I am not the only one, Bellah, who contem- 
 plates this movement. I will give you the proof if you 
 desire, then you may be quite sure that I have not 
 hazarded such a design without, at least, some appear- 
 ance of success." 
 
 ' What design and what success ? In the name of 
 Heaven, answer me, for I am bewildered by your 
 words." 
 
 " Bellah ! I am called to other scenes of honor, 
 and of danger; the weight of my name, the support 
 of my soldiers, are invoked to resuscitate the Ven- 
 d&in wars. Other provinces are ready. Federalism 
 is awake throughout France, and offers us her hand. 
 The King and all the enemies of the Republic are with 
 us. The time when a single victory was sufficient to 
 open the roads to Paris to stifle this Republic stronger 
 then, than to-day, may yet return. The country is 
 not like Kings, jealous of those who serve it ; its grati- 
 tude waits on its liberators. These are noble oppor- 
 tunities, and a nature is not necessarily treacherous, 
 because it is carried away by them." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant listened with breathless 
 terror to this language uttered by a man whose nature 
 was embittered by injustice, and exalted by ambition. 
 
 u I understand, now," she said, slowly ; " pride is 
 leading you astray. Fleur-de-Lis, you are lost, I fear, 
 but it is frightful to think that you lose us at the same 
 
234 A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 
 
 tune. You will kill our cause forever, and I see all 
 this," she added, wringing her hands, " I see all this 
 and I can do nothing." 
 
 " You can do everything, Bellah," said Fleur-de-Lis, 
 in a low, quick voice, laying his hand on the young 
 -girl's arm. 
 
 She looked at him without a word. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " there is no cause to which I 
 would not consecrate myself with joy; no bitterness. 
 and no affront which I would not accept, were I youi 
 husband." 
 
 " My husband ! " cried Bellah, starting back as if an 
 invisible gulf yawned before her. 
 
 " Ever since I knew you, Bellah, glory and fortune 
 have been precious to me, only because they brought 
 me nearer to you. Your love was dearer to me than 
 aught else in the world. You refused it, and to 
 forget you I must become either a great man, or a great 
 criminal. The passions which are eating my heart out 
 are terrible ; you cannot comprehend them, but you 
 can exorcise them." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant's hands were clasped upon 
 her breast as if ready to lie down upon her tomb ; her 
 pale lips parted : " the King," she murmured, softly. 
 
 Suddenly an expression of triumphant suffering 
 spread over her face. She went towards Fleur-de-Lis, 
 and extending her hand, sh3 said, with a smile of 
 superhuman sweetness : 
 
 " If this weak hand be of such weight in the scale 
 uf such lofty destinies, I shall lay it there with pride." 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTAKOE, 235 
 
 The young chief seemed confounded and almost 
 embarrassed by a reply so prompt, and by such a facile 
 victory. 
 
 "Is it possible!" he murmured; "I was mistaken 
 then. You do not love that is you are able to love 
 me. But, perhaps it is Duty alone which influences 
 you you are sacrificing yourself ! " 
 
 " Have I that air, then ? " asked Bellah, with the 
 same serene tranquillity. " No, do not imagine it, my 
 nature is not perhaps capable of the warmth of senti- 
 ments for which you might look in another, but you 
 must be satisfied when I tell you that I will be yours. 
 Time will do the rest." 
 
 "Bellah! can I believe you? This unhoped for 
 happiness oh! what a burthen you lift from my 
 heart from what mortal anguish you deliver me ! 
 How can I ever reward you? " 
 
 " By serving the King, Fleur-de-Lis ! " 
 
 " I will serve him ! I will die for him if needs be ! 
 and I will die full of gratitude, if I die as your hus- 
 band ! Bellah it is cruel to importune you more 
 now forgive me, for I love you with my whole soul. 
 Your promise is sincere, is it not? You do not intend 
 to forfeit your word ; the mere utterance of this suspi- 
 cion is an insult to you ! But do you not rely on the 
 chances of a murderous war ? " 
 
 " I am ready to yield instantaneous obedience to my 
 father's wishes, and to your own." 
 
 "So be it! If your father grants his consent, then 
 the. priest who, to-morrow night, will bless our arms 
 
236 A LETTER OF IMPOKTAKCK. 
 
 before our departure, will bless our union. May 1 
 venture to hope this, Bellali ? " 
 
 " The hour is very near," said Bellali, faintly ; " but 
 see my father; I will offer no objection to anything 
 you may choose to ask of him. Go, Fleur-de-Lis, I am 
 not well to-night, and all these conflicting emotions 
 are more than I can bear." 
 
 The young man knelt before her, and taking the 
 girl's hand, pressed it respectfully to his lips ; then 
 after a profound reverence at the door, he went out of 
 the room. 
 
 As Fleur-de-Lis reached the end of the long corridor 
 that ran through this portion of the chateau, he sud- 
 denly turned, thinking he heard a step behind him. 
 He listened attentively, but all was quiet, and he con- 
 cluded that he had been deceived by the echo of his 
 own foot-fall. He began to descend the stair-case, but 
 his first impression had been correct : he was followed. 
 
 A woman an avenging shade appeared from the 
 darkness and glided after Fleur-de-Lis, down the stair- 
 case which led to the grand hall of the chateau. While 
 he entered the salon to find the Marquis, she gained 
 the court-yard, and disappeared in the obscurity of the 
 avenue. Only a few brief moments had elapsed, when 
 a long, piercing scream, coming, apparently, from 
 Bellah's chamber, suddenly awakened Andree", whose 
 room was separated from that of her adopted sister 
 merely by the thickness of a wall ; she started up and 
 rushed in, only to find Bellah, cold and unconscious, 
 lying on the floor. The room was soon crowded wit** 
 
A LETTER OF IMPORTANCE. 237 
 
 all the people in the chateau, while Monsieur de Ker- 
 gant, aided by the Canoness, endeavored to recall his 
 daughter to life, Andree" caught sight of the letter on 
 tfie table, which Fleur-de-Lis had interrupted. She 
 ,vad several lines, anxious to discover, if possible, the 
 WVUng of the sudden illness which had struck her 
 i-ltv lister down ; then she quickly folded the letter 
 and vveealed it in her bosom. 
 
 Th.a> wine night, a young woman, mounted on a 
 horse &r bathed in sweat, presented herself at the 
 advance poeto of the Republican army, and asked to be 
 conducted i;\H the presence of the General-in-Chief. 
 The staff officer i:ad all, the previous evening, removed 
 their quarters tc +h?> soall town on the bank of the 
 river, three leagues ftfua Kergant. 
 
 The General, at t>e fret words uttered by the 
 young woman, sent for Cojni^andant Pelven. After a 
 conference of a half hour, + Lq mysterious Amazon 
 returned by the same road she ht>c o^ne. 
 
 The first gleam of dawn vt*i9 apparent on the 
 horizon, and Pelven was still shut up wHh the General- 
 in-Chief, when a peasant, who was half 6i ; diot, but 
 who had already served more than once ft) an inter- 
 mediary between the young Commandant and Ids sister, 
 made his appearance, and asked to see Herve\ to whom 
 the peasant gave an envelope sealed with extreme 
 care. 
 
 This envelope contained two lines from Andree*, and 
 Bellah's unfinished letter. 
 
238 ALIX. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ALU . 
 
 MONSIEUR DE KERGANT was one of those men, 
 worthy of all respect, whose lives are governed by 
 natural and healthy sentiments. Their consciences 
 have no dark shadows ; good sense and morality afford 
 a steady light which no worldly wisdom can extin- 
 guish. Such natures are stigmatized as narrow, but 
 their private lives are always irreproachable. Their 
 political lives, especially at these critical epochs, when 
 the human mind must arrive at sudden decisions, and 
 make abrupt changes, may be subject to error, but 
 never to shame. Even those who disdain such charac- 
 ters seek their association, because they inspire confi- 
 dence, and in their presence, one can lift one's social 
 mask, and breathe freely. These natures are as 
 transparent as they are solid, but can be readily 
 deceived. Fleur-de-Lis, in enveloping his delicate 
 confidence with intricate phrases, had no difficulty in 
 winning the pardon of the loyal old Marquis for his 
 audacity. 
 
 Monsieur de Kergant adored his daughter, but un- 
 derstood no more than would a child, anything of tlw 
 complicated enigmas of passion. He had never sus- 
 pected that the silent indifference with which Belwh 
 
A L T X . 239 
 
 regarded the conduct of her adopted brother could 
 conceal a tender recollection. Other appearances, 
 moreover, had aided his mistake. His paternal solici 
 tude had first been excited, by finding in the letters 
 written by " his daughter from England, enthusiastic 
 expressions of admiration for the brilliant Chief of 
 the Bretonne Chouannerie. He had since read the 
 same sentiment in Bellah's eyes in the presence of this 
 you^g man, who also perceived these ingenuous demon- 
 strations, but was by no means gratified, since his clear 
 vision discerned the true nature of the influence he 
 exercised over the pious Royalist. He knew that the 
 preference of a woman is always veiled in mystery, and 
 that a virgin struck to the heart, draws her veil over 
 her wound ; but these refinements were little under- 
 stood by Monsieur de Kergant, who entertained not 
 the smallest doubt, that his daughter's heart had been 
 carried away by the beauty, the courage, and the charm 
 of Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 In his deep affection for his only child, the Marquis 
 did his best to believe that the alliance in which he 
 supposed his daughter's happiness to be involved, was 
 all that was desirable. In this attempt he met with 
 more or less success, and he himself gladly submitted 
 to the _ascendency of the young chief; continually 
 defending him most energetically against the re- 
 proaches and suspicions of his rivals, and in this way 
 had begun to regard him already as his son. 
 
 The stain of his birth, had, in the eyes of the 
 
240 ALIX. 
 
 Marquis, been obliterated by the brilliancy of the ser- 
 vices he had rendered, aided by the evidences of dis- 
 tinguished consideration. 
 
 If it were a sacrifice to the old gentleman to 
 obliterate the name of an ancient family by the over- 
 shadowing but transitory fame of Fleur-de- Lis, he 
 found pleasure in it, and a new source of devotion. He 
 taw a new security given to a sacred cause ; a new bond 
 which should stifle all forebodings, and bring the 
 noblesse once more around the popular hero. 
 
 Such were the secret impressions of Monsieur de 
 Kergant, consequently the declaration made to him by 
 Fleur-de-Lis, of Bellah's consent, was welcomed with 
 the utmost kindness almost, indeed, with joy. It 
 relieved him of the doubts weighing so heavily upon 
 him ; it gave him a plausible explanation of the sadness 
 which had overwhelmed his beloved daughter for so 
 long, and at the same time indicated a remedy. The 
 nervous attack so suddenly prostrating Bellah, only 
 confirmed the Marquis in his mistake, and removed any 
 lingering objection. Sitting by the bedside of his 
 daughter, he accepted her silent despair as an indication 
 of excessive and girlish timidity, and looked upon 
 her tears as those of happiness, when in reality they 
 were bitter enough, and caused to flow, by his unwit- 
 tingly cruel consolations. 
 
 Monsieur de Kergant busied himself that very night 
 in removing those obstacles, which religion might 
 oppose to a marriage so prompt. A dispensation would 
 
A L I X . 241 
 
 be easily obtained. Many proscribed priests had taken 
 refuge among the victorious bands of Fleur-de-Lis : 
 one of them occupied a distinguished and elevated 
 position in the church. It was he who, on the depart- 
 ure of the Royalist army, was to celebrate in the 
 chapel at Kergant, a solemn mass for the success of the 
 expedition. He consented to bless, at the same hour, 
 the marriage of the young General, and of Mademoiselle 
 de Kergant. , 
 
 Bellah was told this early in the morning, when she 
 awoke from the profound sleep of nervous exhaustion 
 following her attack of the night. She rose, knelt in 
 prayer, and then went out into the park, where she took 
 a long and solitary walk. 
 
 She was surprised at her owe physical strength, but 
 her brain was still confused and her heart full of 
 tumultuous and contradictory thoughts. Suddenly she 
 remembered the letter she had begun, and hurried back 
 to her room. 
 
 Our readers know how this letter had disappeared. 
 Bellah called Andree*, and asked if she had seen it, but 
 Andree* declared that she had not, and asked, with 
 some little sharpness of tone, what letter she meant. 
 
 Bellah dared say no more. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Pelven, with the rest of the inhabi- 
 tants of the chateau, had been informed of the ap- 
 proaching marriage. After what she had read written 
 by the hand of her friend Andree was certain that 
 Bellah was acting in obedience to her austere convic- 
 16 
 
24,2 ALIX. 
 
 tion of duty. She felt the deepest compassion and 
 respect for her adopted sister, but to allow her to per- 
 ceive these sentiments was to acknowledge her own 
 perfidy. It was, therefore, for this reason, that Andred, 
 all that day, adopted the role of an offended friend. 
 
 It is not true, that to souls deeply tried an end comes 
 to their griefs, and that they become hardened and 
 indifferent. No! as long as life is left, so is the capacity 
 for suffering. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant realized this, when she 
 found that some one, a servant possibly, had stolen her 
 letter, and was in possession of her most secret 
 thoughts her only love letter her will and testament. 
 If some more responsible person were in possession of 
 this letter, Bellah foresaw only new complications. She 
 feared that she would not be allowed to accomplish her 
 sacrifice, and that the despair of her fiance*, would drive 
 him to some desperate step. She passed the early part 
 of the day, a prey to these anxieties ; then, as nothing 
 occurred to confirm them, she ended by persuading her- 
 self that her letter had simply been lost in the confusion 
 incident to her sudden illness, or that the Canon ess 
 had it in her possession, and judged it expedient to 
 keep the secret. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis appeared for a moment at the chateau 
 in the morning, then returned to the forest camp, 
 where the preparations for the movement of the army 
 detained him until night. Monsieur de Kergant was 
 to accompany the expedition. He went to his daughters 
 
ALIX. 243 
 
 and his sister at the chateau, under the care and 
 watchful supervision of Kado, who, under any other 
 circumstances, would have been heart-broken at being 
 separated from his master in such perilous times ; but 
 all Kado's scruples yielded before the anxiety he felt, 
 in regard to his daughter's health. 
 
 Alix, in fact, had strangely altered ; all the youthful 
 gayety and energy which were the marked characteris- 
 tics of her beauty had vanished. Like Bellah, she 
 looked faded and worn. On the morning of which we 
 write, she was too ill to rise from her bed, and Bellah 
 went to see her in her room. 
 
 Notwithstanding the marked difference of position 
 between these two young girls, the associations of their 
 childhood, the privations and anxieties of the disas- 
 trous days in which they lived exile and dangers 
 shared in common, had drawn them very closely 
 together. In Bellah's enthusiastic nature, this affection 
 was augmented by the admiration with which the 
 poetic beauty of Alix inspired her. She insisted that 
 Alix was a reproduction of the fabulous queens of the 
 Americaine legends, and, consequently, bent all her 
 energies in the most delicate manner, to soothe the 
 tenacious pride of the young Bretonne, and to remove 
 from her life any suggestion of servitude. 
 
 Alix, on her side, feeling probably, all the more 
 deeply, because of her reticence of expression, had 
 allowed her gratitude and affection toward the noble 
 companion of her infancy, to increase until it amounted 
 almost lo fanaticism. 
 
244 ALIX. 
 
 On seeing Mademoiselle de K :gant enter, Alix haft 
 lifted herself with evident pain from her bed where she 
 was lying; a faint smile passed over her face, the pallor 
 of which was almost ghastly. " Good Heavens ! " cried 
 Bellah, as she took the girl's burning hand, " are you so 
 very ill, then?" 
 
 u Yes, Mademoiselle ; very ill," said Alix. 
 
 "And I, perhaps, am the cause! I have not yet 
 spoken to your father for your fiance*. Forgive me, I 
 have been so much harrassed. But, after all, you begged 
 me to wait a few days. I will speak to him, however, 
 at once, and will try to obtain permission for Fleur- 
 de-Genet to remain here, if that is what troubles you, 
 and makes you ill." 
 
 "No, no!" answered the girl, hastily; "my father 
 would never forgive him were he to fail to go. Besides, 
 it is not that I am ill. And you are to be married, 
 Mademoiselle ? " 
 
 "Yes; to-night." 
 
 " And jovl love him ? " asked Alix, after a pause. 
 
 "Yes, I love him." 
 
 The sick girl's eyes, brighter with fever, darkened 
 with a sombre light, softening as she met Bellah'g 
 tender gaze. 
 
 Stretching out her arms, she drew Mademoiselle de 
 Kergant toward her, and embraced her violently; then 
 pushing her away again, she burst into a violent passion 
 of tears. 
 
 Bellah made no resistance her sympathy was ** 
 
A 1 1 X . 245 
 
 intense that tears stood in her own eyes. Seated on 
 the edge of the bed, the two girls wept together. 
 Alix, with trembling hand, dried the tears on the 
 cheeks of her loved rival, with her own lustrous curls. 
 
 Kado came in and interrupted this silent interchange 
 of hopes and fears, and Bellah pressed her friend's lips 
 and left the room, saying as she went, a kind word or 
 two to her old servitor. 
 
 Monsieur de Kergant, summoned by his military 
 duties, had passed the afternoon in the forest, in con- 
 ference with the other chiefs. As the first evening 
 shadows crept over the fields, he returned to the 
 chateau. 
 
 All favored the plans of Fleur-de-Lis. The spies, 
 who kept up between the forest, and the Republican 
 line, a species of incessant telegraphic communication, 
 had seen the bivouac fires of the enemy, and had heard 
 the signal given for retreat. The army of the Blues 
 preserved its defensive attitude, and slumbered without 
 suspicion, leaving on the field force for the plans formed 
 for the night : the Royalist forces, leaving the forest on 
 the western side, in order tc reach the coast, and receive 
 the emigre's, who were to land the next day from the 
 English fleet. 
 
 The success of this movement would determine the 
 cause of the King throughout the West of France. 
 Such at least was the hope of Monsieur de Kergant. 
 
 Leaning on the balcony of an open window, the old 
 gentleman spoke with enthusiasm of the happy Future, 
 
m ALtX. 
 
 bo which he looked forward ; all the family, with tha 
 addition of several friends, were assembled in the sal8n, 
 and listened in attentive silence. Bellah, at her father's 
 gide, looked out on the starry darkness. Suddenly she 
 started, and laying her hand on the arm of the Mar- 
 quis, she said : " Hark ! " 
 
 Every one in the salon hurried toward her, and 
 listened attentively. Amid the calmness of the night 
 an ever-growing murmur reached their ears a mur- 
 mur like the distant sound of the sea, rolling up the 
 beach. 
 
 It was the Chouan army approaching. A few mo- 
 ments later, Fleur-de-Lis, followed by a group of his 
 officers, galloped into the court-yard. 
 
 When close upon Kergant, the Royalists divided into 
 two columns, which continued to march in parallel 
 lines, a short distance apart. Thus one division fol- 
 lowed a road that ran back of the park, and the 
 meadows, and the other, passed directly in front of the 
 chateau. 
 
 All the authority of Fleur-de-Lis was needed to 
 discipline this tumultuous horde. The women, chil- 
 dren and old people all, in short, who could not 
 fight Lad been scattered through the neighboring 
 villages. A dark and compact mass filed for three 
 hours past the chateau, without disorder and without 
 other noise than that inseparable from the tumult of a 
 great multitude. 
 
 At intervals the glasses trembled in their leaden set- 
 
ALIX. 247 
 
 tings, when the heavy wheels of the caissons rolled 
 past; and occasionally the men, recognizing Fleur-de- 
 Lis in the luminous frame of one of the windows of 
 the chateau, waved their hats in the air. The silent 
 greetings had a most singular effect. The young Gen- 
 eral, with his little corps of officers especially attached 
 to his person, was to rejoin these columns immediately 
 after the celebration of his marriage. 
 
 It was now eleven o'clock. Mademoiselle de Ker- 
 gant, who immediately on the arrival of the young 
 chief had disappeared from the salon, now re-entered 
 on her father's arm. She was dressed with severe sim- 
 plicity in white, but her toilette was characterized with 
 all that care which a beautiful woman rarely forgets. 
 They all passed into the next salon, where supper was 
 served. The white dresses of the women, the numer- 
 ous lights, the festive air, which the Canoness had done 
 her best to give to this wedding supper, were, one and 
 all a melancholy failure ; nothing could efface the 
 impression of approaching danger, and impending 
 separation. 
 
 Andrei, pale and silent, trembled at times from head 
 to foot. Bellah preserved her habitual dignity, but 
 her extreme pallor and unsteady eyes, as well as the 
 light frown contracting her regular brows, betrayed 
 the struggle going on within. Fleur-de-Lis alone 
 appeared to be unmoved by any sinister apprehensions, 
 and abandoned himself entirely to his triumphant love. 
 His radiant brow his animated words, by degrees 
 
248 ALIX. 
 
 dissipated the constraint, reawakened hope, and im 
 parted courage to the anxious souls about him. 
 
 Suddenly, however, a cloud passed over the face of 
 the young chief, and a phrase he had begun, remained 
 unfinished. The door had opened; Alix had come 
 in. She slowly and noiselessly glided to the table. 
 Monsieur de Kergant hurried toward her, reproaching 
 her affectionately for her imprudence. Alix answered 
 faintly that she was better, and that she had husbanded 
 all her strength that day that she might be present at 
 the marriage of her young mistress. 
 
 Monsieur de Kergant, touched by this mark of 
 affection, placed the daughter of old Kado, by Andrew's 
 side, but the girl's agitated face, her black dress, 
 unsteady step, as well as her unexpected presence, 
 depressed every heart as an augury of evil. 
 
 Fleur-de-Lis was evidently disturbed; his words 
 became confused, and noticing the surprise of those 
 about him, he colored, and relapsed into silence. 
 
 All conversation came to an end, and the supper 
 ended in icy silence, when the chapel clock struck 
 midnight, the hour appointed for the priest to be at 
 the altar, where he awaited the bridal pair. The 
 chapel at Kergant, was of the simplest Gothic archi- 
 tecture, and stood on the right of the chateau, on 
 a slight hill that partially overlooked the courtyard. 
 This hill, which served as base to the tiny edifice, was 
 almost circular; on the side overlooking the country, it 
 was protected by rocks sloping off into a ravine, which 
 
A L I X . 249 
 
 seemed to continue the lower walls of the chapeL 
 Toward the court it was terraced down in a series of 
 green slopes. A flight of some ten or twelve ste)>s 
 gave access from the court-yard to the lawn, extending 
 in front of the porch. Between this hill and the 
 manor moat, opened a wide space communicating with 
 the country, which had served as an approach to the 
 Royalist troops. A well cultivated farm lay back of 
 the hill on the left. All the other sides of the long 
 square forming the court of the chateau, were shut in 
 by stables and outbuildings. 
 
 The movement and the tumult of the multitude 
 moving past had ceased ; three hundred men remained 
 behind as a guard to the chief. Half of this number 
 were distributed through the avenue at very small 
 distances apart; the rest were drawn up in a motion- 
 less semi-circle at the foot of the steps leading to the 
 chapel. 
 
 In the soft light of the stars, the uniforms of the 
 Chasseurs du Roi could just be distinguished. They 
 opened their ranks before the silent cortege which came 
 from the chateau, receiving them with a military 
 salute. 
 
 A few moments later, when the tinkle of the sacred 
 bell announced the commencement of the ceremony, 
 the soldiers dropped upon their knees, with uncovered 
 heads, their hands clasped as if in prayer, while their 
 arms lay on the ground at their sides. 
 
 A few scattered candles, faintly and indistinctly 
 
?30 ALIX. 
 
 lighted die interior of the chapel, leaving a large portion 
 of the persons present in almost total obscurity. Before 
 the chancel rail knelt Bellah and Fleur-de-Lis. The 
 priest, an old man with white hair, extended his hand, 
 on which glittered the Episcopal ring, over the heads 
 of the fiancee's. The Marquis de Kergant was a little 
 Lehind his daughter; his sister, the Canoness, at his 
 side. Andrei held in her hand the nuptial canopy, 
 impatiently crushing it, while an extraordinary expres- 
 sion of impatience and anxiety, marred the sweetness 
 nf her infantine face. 
 
 A little further off, leaning on the arm of Kado, 
 stood Alix ; her eyes were fixed, and every feature 
 rigid; she looked as if listening to some strange noise. 
 The group of Royalist officers, and the servants of the 
 household, crowded the dark nave of the small church. 
 
 The moment for the irrevocable union of the bridal 
 pair had arrived. The priest had addressed to them 
 the sacramental questions. Bellah lifted her brow, 
 paler than her white veil, and extended her hand for 
 the ring which was to chain her whole life; but the 
 young General had dropped the symbolical ring on the 
 steps of the altar ; as he lifted his head he heard his 
 name in a cry of lamentable anguish coming from 
 without. He started up and held his breath, as did 
 every one else in the chapel. On every face was the 
 same expression of anxious expectation. 
 
 After a brief interval the same plaintive voice 
 lepeated the name of Fleur-de-Lis ; then the sound <;/ 
 
ALIX. m 
 
 a fast galloping horse was recognized The young 
 man rushed out of the chapel, followed by the crowd 
 of spectators. With one leap, he crossed the space 
 separating the porch from the steps. A horse bathed 
 in sweat was panting at the foot of the steps; the 
 soldiers were assisting the rider, who moved with diffi- 
 culty, to dismount. His brow, his breast, were stained 
 with blood. Some one said that Fleur-de-Lis was 
 there ; he turned to him, gasped, uttered the one word, 
 " treachery," and fell dead at the feet of the chief. 
 
 At the same moment, as if to confirm the word 
 of this poor fellow, a loud report was heard at a dis- 
 tance. Fleur-de-Lis lifted his arm to impose silence. 
 Several soldiers threw themselves on the ground, and 
 laid their ears to the earth to listen. 
 
 The same noise, like the echo of a subterranean 
 storm, was heard again and again. 
 
 u That is cannon," said Fleur-de-Lis "the Army is 
 attacked. To horse ! " 
 
 While the horses were being brought out with all 
 possible speed, the priest leaned over the horseman 
 and vainly sought for some indications of life. The 
 soldiers, plunged into a sombre stupor, surrounded this 
 group. The inhabitants of the chateau crowded near ; 
 some of the women wept aloud; at each report brought 
 on the night breeze, a shudder ran through the crowd. 
 
 " My children," said Fleur-de-Lis, in a steady voice, 
 " we all hear the cannon of the Blues, but we hear our 
 own also. Our brothers call us. In less than a half 
 
C M ALIX. 
 
 hour we shall be at their side. In the name of God 
 and the King, let us march! The roads are free " 
 Fleur-de-Lis was interrupted by an uproar that seemed 
 to run along the avenue ; the cry of, " To arms ! The 
 Blues!' was repeated by all the sentinels; then came 
 the noise of a fusillade, quick and sharp. The young 
 General's foot was in the stirrup; he hastily withdrew 
 it, and drawing his sword, cried out : " Follow me, my 
 men ! " and rushed down the avenue. 
 
 All who could carry arms followed him, and the 
 priest was left alone in the vast court-yard. 
 
 " My daughters ! " he said, turning toward the chapel 
 with unsteady steps, " let us pray ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant and Alix followed the old 
 man to the foot of the altar, where they prostrated 
 themselves. The other women, incapable of restraint 
 at such a moment, remained upon the steps, and 
 exchanged in low voices, their fears and anxieties. 
 
 Some of the windows of the chateau were open, and 
 blazing with lights. In the court-yard, lighted partially 
 by the windows and by the serene sky above, the 
 abandoned horses were galloping wildly, scenting the 
 powder from afar. 
 
 Meanwhile the sounds of the fusillade, mingled with 
 other confused sounds, became each moment more 
 intense and distinct. At intervals, the thunder of the 
 cannon was heard in the distance, silencing the nearer 
 noises. Suddenly the discharge of musketry ceased, 
 only an occasional report was heard, and everything 
 
ALIX. 2*3 
 
 seemed to indicate that the fighting was over. When, 
 all at once, the entrance to the avenue, was crowded 
 with Chouans. 
 
 The women on the lawn shrieked and huddled 
 together. Bellah ran out to them. A discharge of 
 musketry, a flash through the trees, and every window 
 trembled in the chapel ; the enemy was at hand. 
 
 The private guard of Fleur-de-Lis had fired, and 
 retreating to the court -yard, were reloading their 
 pieces. Bellah, seeing among them the tall figure and 
 white hair of her father, wildly thrust aside her com- 
 panions, and made her way to the stairs; there she 
 stopped short, struck to the heart with dismay. 
 
 A compact mass of Republicans had marched into 
 the avenue, led by a young man on horseback, who, 
 bare-headed and sword in hand, moved rapidly on, 
 undismayed by the shot that fell around him. 
 
 By the swift gleams of light, Bellah recognized 
 Ilerve*. 
 
 " Not another shot ! " cried the young Commandant ; 
 " we are masters of the chateau ! " 
 
 As he spoke, a shower of balls from the windows of 
 the old manor brought down some twenty Chouans. 
 
 " Not another shot ! " repeated the Commandant ; 
 " the chateau is yours ! " * 
 
 " To the Chapel ! " answered the ringing voice of 
 Fleur-de-Lis, " to the Chapel ! God and the King ! 
 God and the King ! " 
 
 Hervd leaped from his horse; and turning to his 
 
S54 ALIX. 
 
 men, gave them some rapid orders, adding a few 
 agitated words recommending to their humanity, the 
 innocent creatures who had taken refuge in the chapel. 
 
 " Be at ease, Commandant," said a grave voice, " we 
 know that your jewel of a sister is there, that is 
 enough ! " 
 
 "Don't try any hazardous experiments with your 
 guns," said Herve\ hastily ; " don't fire at all, do you 
 hear? Come on ! " 
 
 With these words he dashed diagonally across the 
 court-yard, a squad of grenadiers at his heels, while 
 the rest of the men followed more leisurely. 
 
 The Royalist Chasseurs had scaled the hill ; some of 
 them were already in the chapel; pushing aside the 
 women who were mad with terror, they posted them- 
 selves at each window, and at each aperture, and even 
 ascended to the small bell tower on the roof. The 
 others crowded the lawn. Fleur-de-Lis stood in the 
 centre, between the porch and the steps, in one hand his 
 sword, and in the other a pistol. 
 
 The Marquis de Kergant and Kado, their faces black 
 with powder, were on either side of their Chief. 
 ' The imperative voice of Fleur-de-Lis alone broke 
 the silence that reigned in and about the chapel. The 
 iletachment commanded by Hervd, rapidly approached 
 the hill. Fleur-de-Lis raised his sword. Two succes- 
 sive discharges aimed with that wonderful precision that 
 distinguishes the Bretons, strewed the ground with 
 corpses, but Heryg's foot was on the steps. 
 
A L I X 255 
 
 'Come on ! " he cried, " Come on, my men ! " 
 
 At the same moment, the Grenadiers simultaneoubly 
 Evaded the chapel. 
 
 To the impetuous fury of the assailants, the Royal- 
 ists opposed the energy of despair. A terrible melee 
 followed it was a hand to hand combat, steel met 
 steel, and the clatter and crash of arms filled the air, 
 mingled with groans and imprecations. 
 
 At the height of this terrible contest, a red light 
 was suddenly reflected in the arched windows over the 
 door. This light increased, and soon illuminated the 
 court-yard with its sinister glow. Some smoking wads 
 from the guns had fallen in front of a stable opposite 
 fhe chapel, and set fire to the dry straw. This fire 
 ( ommunicated to the interior ; large sparks flew through 
 the air among masses of black smoke, while tongues 
 (>f fire came through the windows of the barn and 
 licked the roof. 
 
 The combat, lighted by these flames, continued with 
 increasing violence ; the blows dealt were sure and 
 prompt. The wounded and the dead, lay in piles 
 around the hill, and aided the Republicans in their 
 attempts to scale it. 
 
 Herve\ wounded in the arm, at last reached the 
 centre of the lawn, and found himself face to face with 
 Fleur-de-Lis, who still invulnerable, stood, his hair 
 waving in the wind, an I sword stained with blood. 
 
 The two young men uttered a cry as they recognized 
 each other, then their two blades met, but at the first 
 
356 ALIX. 
 
 pass, the sword of Fleur-de-Lis was broken. At this 
 supreme moment, the white form of a woman appeared 
 at one of the windows of the chapel. 
 
 " Herve* ! " she cried, in a piercing voice that made 
 itself heard above the combat. " Herve* ! they are 
 killing my father ! " 
 
 Herv's arm remained uplifted, his eyes left the face 
 of his enemy so suddenly disarmed. He perceived a 
 few steps off, the Marquis de Kergant leaning against 
 the wall, and surrounded b}' a menacing circle of 
 Grenadiers. 
 
 "Bruidoux! men! To the rescue!" cried Herve*, 
 rushing toward the group, " save the old man ! " 
 
 As he uttered these words, the report of a pistol 
 was heard behind him, and he fell with a faint groan. 
 Fleur-de-Lis, after achieving this act of hate rather than 
 of courage, threw aside his pistol, and picked up a 
 sword fallen from the hand of a wounded man ; but 
 Sergeant Bruidoux who had seen the murder, took 
 full aim at the young Chief. 
 
 " Coward ! " he cried, and fired. 
 
 The ball penetrated the breast of Fleur-de-Lis. Not 
 one of the details which we have sought to bring 
 vividly before the eyes of our readers, had escaped 1he 
 Republican soldiers in the court-yard. The officer to 
 whom the comnund now fell, raised his voice. 
 
 " Back to the court-yard ! " he cried ; " all of you." 
 
 The grenadiers obeyed, and presently a discharge of 
 musketry from the Republicans swept away all the 
 living on the lawn. 
 
ALIX. 257 
 
 "Let us avenge the Commandant!" shouted the 
 officer ; " come on, my men, come on ! " 
 
 All the men scaled the hill again, led by him, but 
 after the most determined and intrepid exertions, were 
 compelled to fall back under the volley which came 
 from the porch, and from the windows and bell tower. 
 
 The soldiers at a new word of command, scattered 
 themselves over the court-yard, where the heat from 
 the fire had become almost unendurable. J3ome of 
 them took shelter behind the sheds, and behind the 
 wagons, and there took deliberate aim at the windows 
 and bell tower ; the success of their shots was shown 
 by the gradually lessening fire from the chapel. 
 
 Suddenly a tall figure of almost gigantic stature, 
 emerged from the porch and came out alone upon the 
 lawn. 
 
 Bruidoux, who was kneeling at the foot of the slope, 
 started up. 
 
 " Boys ! " he cried with all the strength of his lungs. 
 " Hold your fire ! it is the old Guard, the one who 
 saved my life. Reward him for that, boys reward him, 
 I tell you ! " 
 
 It was indeed Kado ; he did not appear to have 
 heard the Sergeant's voice, but profiting by the 
 momentary truce, permitted by the astonished Repub- 
 licans, he lifted two bodies from out the pile of corpses, 
 Ihose of Herv^ and Fleur-de-Lis, and bore them back 
 to the chapel. 
 
 " Surrender ! " shouted Bruidoux. " Surrender ! The 
 fire has caught the bell tower! The chapel is burning I " 
 17 
 
258 A I. IX. 
 
 No voice was heard in reply; the chairs and benches 
 which barricaded the entrance of the porch were 
 pushed aside, and the massive door of the little church 
 closed with much noise. 
 
 The terrible information conveyed by Rruidoux was 
 correct ; burning brands from the barn had been 
 carried by the wind to the dry roof of the shed next 
 the chapel, and the flames were already enveloping the 
 bell tower. Two or three Chouans still lingered there, 
 reluctant to leave a spot from which they could take 
 such certain aim ; while from the lower windows of 
 the chapel still came an occasional shot. 
 
 Bruidoux approached the officer who had taken 
 Hervd's command. 
 
 " Captain," he said, " can you do nothing for these 
 poor creatures ? " 
 
 The officer, with contracted brows and both hands 
 clasping the handle of his sword, the point of which 
 was buried in the earth, watched with sombre gaze the 
 progress of the fire. 
 
 " What would you have me do ? " he answered, 
 " they have not ceased firing. I cannot sacrifice the 
 li fe of one of my men uselessly. Look at those fellows 
 up there; do you imagine that they dream of sur- 
 rendering ? " 
 
 " I will go and speak to them myself," said Bruidoux. 
 " Will you allow me to promise them their lives ? " 
 
 "Promise anything," said the officer, turning his 
 face aside, u for this is simply horrible." 
 
A MX. 59 
 
 Bruidoux hastily rushed up the hill, his clothes were 
 pierced by two bullets, but he pushed on and in safety 
 gained the shelter of the porch. He shook the door 
 violently and cried out: 
 
 " Kado ! Citizens ! Do you want life, liberty ? Come 
 out ! Both are promised to you ! Come out ! " 
 
 The brave Sergeant's breath was spent in vain, either 
 the roar of the flames covered his voice or a melan- 
 choly experience of the crimes by which this war had 
 been tarnished, caused his promises to be discredited. 
 At all events, he could elicit no reply. He did not 
 turn from his self-appointed embassy however, until the 
 shouts of his comrades warned him that the roof of the 
 chapel had begun to fall, and that his retreat would be 
 cut off. 
 
 During this time let us see what was going on within 
 the chapel. There was not a square foot of the floor 
 on which the dead were not piled. New victims were 
 constantly falling from the windows, or rolling down 
 the narrow staircase that led to the tower. The arched 
 ceiling was covered with cracks, through which poured 
 dense black smoke, while tiny jets of flame ran at 
 intervals along the cornices. 
 
 The old Priest lay lifeless at the foot of the altar-, 
 the Canoness and one of the servants of the chateau, 
 were also dead at his side ; other women living and 
 more unhappy, were convulsively weeping and wringing 
 their hands. . * 
 
 Bellah and Alix, with dishevelled hair, were on 
 
260 A L I X . 
 
 their knees, lavishing useless care on An dree*, who had 
 fainted with terror. From time to time the two young 
 creatures turned their distracted eyes on Herve* and 
 Fleur-de-Lis, who lay side by side near the altar. 
 
 Kado, aided by two young fellows, had lifted the 
 dead boiies from the sculptured flag -stones that 
 indicated the family vault, and aided by iron bars torn 
 from the balustrade, had pried up a granite slab in 
 front of the altar. At once a flight of stairs was 
 visible ; the bars of iron they had used now held up the 
 granite slab. As soon as the task was accomplished, 
 the youths who had aided Kado, snatched their guns, 
 and went back to the window, only to fall dead a few 
 moments later. 
 
 As soon as the entrance to the crypt was thus made 
 practicable, the women rushed toward it. Kado pointed 
 out to them the necessity of caution, for were they to 
 overturn the granite slab from its present position, he 
 could not lift it alone, and he had now no one to aid 
 him. " If this misfortune should come to pass," he 
 said, " they were lost, as the last road to safety would 
 be closed." He made them descend one by one, and 
 finally all had disappeared into the darkness below. 
 Turning toward the altar, Kado lifted with one hand, 
 the frail inanimate form of Andree, and drew Bellah 
 on with the other to the subterranean vault. 
 
 " No, no ; Hervd first," murmured the young girl, 
 resisting the strong arm of her old servant. 
 
 M Do not be troubled, Mademoiselle," answered Kado, 
 
A L I X . 2(31 
 
 M T promise \ jj that I will save him, but go down ut 
 once, or I can answer for nothing." 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant obeyed. Kado descended 
 ^after her, bearing Herve*'s sister in his arms, but went 
 back to the chapel instantly. The smoke was moment- 
 arily becoming more dense. 
 
 "Alix! my child," cried Kado, in an agony of 
 suspense, " where are you ? I can see nothing." 
 
 u I am here, father," answered Alix, " close by you." 
 
 " Thank God ! my child. Oh ! what a night this has 
 been. Where is the Chief? Can you see him? I 
 must rescue him first, and then our young master, if it 
 be God's will. Where is he ? Which is Fleur-de-Lis ? " 
 
 " Here," said the girl, " this is he." 
 
 Kado lifted the inanimate body pointed out by Alix, 
 and plunged again into the darkness below. 
 
 " Come, Alix ! " he cried, " come ! You must not 
 linger a moment. Follow me ! You are close behind 
 me, are you not?" 
 
 " Yes, father," answered Alix, staggering to her feet, 
 but she did not follow her father. She went toward 
 the wounded man lying at the base of the altar. 
 " Fleur-de-Lis," she said, " I told you, did I not, that 
 were you ever to deceive me, I should find a way of 
 revenging myself?" 
 
 A sigh escaped from the breast of the wounded man. 
 
 " How dastardly has been your conduct ! " continued 
 the young girl, and her words came through her close- 
 shut teeth. " How barbarous has been your treatment 
 
232 ALIX. 
 
 of me ! Ah! you well knew that I would endure 
 everything rather than reveal to my lather the shame 
 of his child, rather than wound the generous heart of 
 my innocent rival. Poor Bellah ! I have wounded her 
 sorely. The worst blow of all, however, I have kept 
 for myself. I did not choose that her fair brow should 
 redden at hearing of your infamy. She will weep for 
 you she will shed her tears, for she did not know 
 you ! " 
 
 While Alix spoke, the face of Fleur-de-Lis was con- 
 tracted with an expression of intense agony. He 
 seemed struggling to regain his fast failing strength. 
 His lips parted. " Listen ! " he murmured. " I have 
 never loved any one but you. Pride, ambition carried 
 me away, but, before God, I love only you. Alix, take 
 my hand ; you are my wife before God ! " 
 
 " Poor wretch ! " said the girl, " he deceives me still ; 
 but I love him I will save him ! " at the same moment 
 she wrapped her strong young arms around the Chief, 
 and bore him toward the granite slab, still suspended 
 as we have described. 
 
 Standing there at the mouth of the crypt was her 
 father, looking at her with terrible eyes. Alix recoiled, 
 her knees trembled, and her burthen rolled to her feet. 
 
 " Father ! " she cried in mortal anguish, " leave me to 
 die, but take him ! " 
 
 "No, I will save neither you nor him," answered 
 Kado, in a hoarse voice. " Never has treason found a 
 resting place here ! " 
 
A L I 3L . 263 
 
 He turned as he spoke ; one touch of his foot 
 removed the two iron bars which held up the slab, and 
 the stone fell with a dull sound. 
 
 " Now let us pray to God ! " said the old man, 
 solemnly. " Pray, Monsieur le Due, if so be that you 
 understand my words. Pray you for Herve*, if you 
 love him " 
 
 A shriek from Alix interrupted her father. It was 
 the last she ever uttered. Sheets of flame enveloped 
 the chapel ; a terrible crash was heard, and the entire 
 roof fell, burying the living and the dead. 
 
 One brief hour had witnessed all these disasters. 
 When the pale light of dawn mingled with the last 
 dying flames of the fire, it lighted only a solitude, 
 made terrible by the debris of humanity. 
 
2cU BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 THE cavern, within which was assembled all that 
 remained of the Kergant household, extended into 
 the side of the hill, under a roof sustained by four 
 arches, and on one side by the natural rocks. On the 
 damp soil, the foot struck man}^ a protruding stone, 
 while an occasional fissure in the rock insufficiently 
 renewed the close atmosphere of the crypt. When the 
 granite slab, that closed its only issue, fell back under 
 Kado's foot, no ray of light entered the dreary spot, 
 while, at the same moment, the dull shock that shook 
 the vault announced to the unhappy captives that the 
 secret of their retreat was shared with no living soul, 
 and that their tomb was sealed over their heads. 
 
 But Mademoiselle de Kergant was the only one 
 among them all, who realized the horror of their posi- 
 tion ; the others, silent and almost idiotic from terror, 
 sobbed in a corner. At the noise of the falling walls, 
 Bellah darted up the staircase and sought, with a 
 convulsive effort, to lift the stone, but the strength of 
 a dozen men would have been required to succeed in 
 this attempt. Bellah sank on the steps and covered her 
 face with her burning hands. Presently she rose and 
 felt her way to the place where she had left Andree*. 
 
BURIED ALIVE. 265 
 
 " May the Good God," she said, as she knelt at her 
 friend's side, " may the Good God spare you the anguish 
 of awakening." 
 
 As she spoke, a groan came from the lips of the 
 wounded man who lay near Andre e, whom Bellah had 
 heard Kado eall by the name of Fleur-de-Lis. 
 
 " You are suffering, Sir," she said, as she leaned over 
 him whom she supposed to be the young chief. 
 
 "Bellah! is that you?" murmured the wounded 
 man. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant uttered a despairing shriek. 
 
 "Herve*!" she cried; "my Herv^ ! " and her hand 
 ran over the brow and bleeding breast of the young 
 man, but with such tender caution that the touch was 
 like that of the wings of a bird. After a few moments 
 consecrated to silent prayer, and also to secret shame 
 at having forgotten for a moment her dead father, 
 Bellah said softly : 
 
 " It is really yourself then, Her^e* ! Really you ! 
 We are together again, but in what a place, and in 
 what an hour I Merciful God ! you do not know " 
 
 "I do know," interrupted Heive* ; "I am suffering, 
 but I have never lost consciousness. I know where 
 we are, only I I dare not ask Andree, my little 
 sister?" 
 
 "She is here, living, but she has fainted she is 
 close to you." 
 
 "Alas! I cannot thank God! Would it not be 
 better for her tell me, Bellah you are courageous , 
 
266 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 the stone above lias been shut down, has it not? And 
 there is no one left alive in the chapel?" 
 
 "No one, unless some miracle has taken place/' 
 
 "In the name of Heaven! keep Andree in ignorance 
 of this, dear Bellah, until the very end." 
 
 "Hush, Herve ! hush! I hear her move. She is 
 again conscious, and will hear you." 
 
 Andree* was, in fact, gradually returning to herself. 
 She extended her arms, and turned on her cold bed, 
 like a child awakening in its cradle. 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant, leaning over her, called 
 her in a caressing voice. The poor little creature mur- 
 mured at first a few meaningless words, and then asked 
 if it would not soon be light ; but by degrees the 
 knowledge of the terrible truth came to her. 
 
 " Where am I?" she cried. "My God! where 
 ami?" 
 
 Bellah, covering her with kisses, assured her that she 
 was in safety and with Hervd, at the same time putting 
 the young man's hand into that of his sister. She 
 then informed Andree* of that which it was impossible 
 to conceal from her the terrible losses they had 
 undergone, and all the circumstances which had com- 
 pelled her and them to seek a refuge in this subterra- 
 nean place ; but she added that Kado, with two or 
 three of their old servants, had escaped, and that he 
 would come to extricate them from their prison, as soon 
 as it would be possible to do so without running the 
 risk of falling into the hands of the Republicans. 
 
BURIED ALIVE. 267 
 
 These assurances, added to the presence of a brother 
 whom she had never hoped to see again in this life, 
 appeased AndrecTs trouble, and a few rajs of daylight, 
 which by this time had found its way through the 
 iissures of the rocks, contributed greatly to her comfort. 
 
 The two young girls, with their united strength, 
 assisted Herve* into a position where his wound pained 
 him less ; the shot, fired by Fleur-de-Lis, had entered 
 his shoulder, and each movement elicited a faint groan. 
 But he endeavored to smile, and by his calm speech, to 
 soothe the anxiety of his companions. 
 
 Andrei did her best, in her turn, to interest him in 
 her childish talk, and thus cause him to forget his 
 pain her furtive tears fell heavily, however, when he 
 could not see or suspect them. 
 
 Bell ah left them every little while, and went to the 
 peasant women who sat rocking to and fro, alternately 
 lamenting loudly, and then falling into a dull apathy of 
 despair. 
 
 Resistance under great misfortunes is measured less 
 by physical strength, than by that of the soul. Bellah, 
 whose delicate complexion was still pale after weeks of 
 suffering, had developed a new life in this emergency, 
 under which her more robust companions had entirely 
 succumbed. Mademoiselle de Kergant addressed in 
 turn each one of these poor creatures, called them by 
 name, took them by the hand, and spoke tenderly 
 of the faith in which they had been educated, of the 
 God who held them in the hollow of His hand, and 
 
268 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 finally succeeded in inspiring them with some degree of 
 lesignation. 
 
 Several times in the course of each hour this noble 
 young girl returned to this afflicted group. They 
 clung to her dress, kissed her hands, and implored her 
 not to abandon them. 
 
 Herve was, to all appearance, very calm ; he had lost 
 much blood, and therefore the wound had given him 
 less fever. Andred, glad that his sufferings were less, 
 and confident in the illusions with which her fears had 
 been lulled, by degrees recovered much of the gracious 
 vivacity of her nature ; she formed projects for the 
 Future, far from suspecting that all the Future of her 
 young life was enclosed within the narrow limits of 
 this funereal cavern. Her innocent faith increased the 
 anguish it was intended to relieve. Mademoiselle de 
 Kergant, anxious to moderate hopes which were soon 
 to be so cruelly disappointed, reminded her gently of 
 the death and mourning, all about her. 
 
 " Bellah," interrupted Hervd, " will you pardon me 
 for the part I have had in all the misfortunes which 
 have overwhelmed you? I ask this forgiveness from 
 your goodness, from your justice." 
 
 " How can I blame you, Hervd," answered the young 
 girl, "before this wound which you received in your 
 attempt to save my poor father ? " 
 
 " Tell him that you love him still," said Mademoiselle 
 de Pelven ; " that would oe the best thing you oouhl 
 do" 
 
BURIED ALIVE. 269 
 
 For Heaven's sake, dear Anclred," cried Bellah. 
 
 " Where would be the harm?" interrupted Andree*, 
 with an emotion which did not altogether quench her 
 childish gayety. 
 
 "Our misfortunes," she continued, "are, I well 
 know, very terrible. I feel this quite as well as your- 
 self, but why undervalue the consolation sent by God, 
 the Father ? It is His hand that has directed all, and 
 I bless it even while I weep. God has not chosen you 
 to become the prey of that bad man, that miserable 
 Fleur-de-Lis, for you were offering yourself up as a 
 sacrifice. I know this, and it is time that Herve knew 
 it also. Besides, it is useless for you to equivocate, 
 and I will tell you why. You remember your letter 
 your famous letter? Well, it was I who took it I 
 sent it to Herve\ and he knows it now by heart, I am 
 very sure ! " 
 
 Mademoiselle de Kergant was literally stunned by 
 this revelation; then she stammered a few words of 
 reproach, but the trembling hand of the wounded man 
 suddenly grasping hers, Bellah relapsed into silence ; 
 her tears fell in a burning shower on Pelven's face. 
 
 Andree* drew back, and left the two comparatively 
 alone. She went toward one of the fissures and tried 
 to enlarge it ; in doing so, it seemed to her that one of 
 the square stones set with masonry was loose, and 
 moved under her touch. She removed it without the 
 smallest difficulty, and the cavern was filled with light. 
 Andree* uttered a cry of joy, and called to her sister to 
 
270 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 come. The removal of the stone had made an opening 
 in the wall into which one could put one's fist. This 
 opening continued through the masonry by a vertical 
 and irregular fissure, but Bellah in vain tried to enlarge 
 it. The only advantage the captives obtained from it 
 j was to breathe a less stifling air, and to obtain a glimpse 
 of several of the paving stones in the court, and some 
 green waving branches. This dim vision of the exterior 
 world of life, liberty and sunshine occasioned Made- 
 moiselle de Kergant an acute pang. Andrei, on the 
 contrary, was confirmed by this prospect, limited as it 
 was, in the hope of a speedy deliverance, and, indeed, 
 regarded it as half realized. She could not tear herself 
 from this loop-hole, but continued to watch there, with 
 feverish impatience, for the coming of a liberator. 
 
 Bellah, profiting by one of these moments when 
 Andree* was absorbed in this vain contemplation, asked 
 Herve*, in a low voice, if it were not possible that their 
 united voices might be heard from outside, through 
 this opening, the form and dimensions of which 
 she desciibed. 
 
 Herve* replied that he did not think it possible on 
 account of the thickness of the wall, and the irregu- 
 larities of the aperture which would break the voice, 
 and probably smother it entirely. 
 
 " In any case," he said, " the sounds would be too 
 faint, to be noticed by any indifferent person, and if 
 any one came in search of a relative or a friend, he 
 would assuredly enter the chapel. In that case we 
 
BURIED ALIVE. 271 
 
 should certainly hear his steps, xnd it would be time 
 enough then to attempt this last resource. Until then 
 our cries would only have the effect of increasing the 
 terror of those about us, and Andree and the others 
 would no longer entertain a hope. Oh ! Bellah ! with 
 what joy I would give every drop of blood in my veins, 
 to spare you and the others, all that I foresee." 
 
 44 But, Herve*, all is not lost. They must come, if 
 only to bring the " Bellah's voice was choked, and 
 her lips trembled convulsively. 
 
 Herve continued presently. 
 
 44 Bellah," he said, 44 it is impossible for me to deceive 
 you, you do not desire me to do so, either ; they will 
 come, of course, as you say, but not for two days, per- 
 haps for three. The whole country is in a state of 
 terror. I have witnessed scenes of wholesale butchery 
 like this, abandoned for clays, and then, too, is it likely 
 that those who come will know the secret of this cave ? 
 Will you then have strength enough to utter a cry? 
 And would this cry be heard? This is more than 
 doublful." 
 
 44 Then, Herve, there is no hope," said Bellah, calmly. 
 <4 Speak without fear, I am ready to hear you." 
 
 44 We have," answered Herve\ 44 one hope only one. 
 It is Francis alone, who can save us. His duty 
 attached him to the side of the General. If he has sur- 
 vived the battle which has taken place this night, I do 
 not doubt that he I don't know what he would do, 
 but it seems to me that I would save him, if I were in 
 his place and he were here. Poor Francis I" 
 
272 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 Long hours thus passed away ; the clay was drawing 
 to a close, and the crypt was becoming very dark. 
 Andree had seated herself at her brother's side. She 
 began to suspect that she had been deceived, and was 
 silent and motionless. When the last ray of day-light 
 disappeared, she could no longer restrain her anguish ; 
 her sobs were mingled with words of despair. Bellah 
 took her in her arms, but her caresses had no power to 
 soothe the poor child. Herve*, whose fever had set in 
 with violence, with difficulty, retained his reason. 
 
 At the other end of the cavern, the four women 
 servants offered a still more melancholy spectacle. 
 Their hopes had vanished, and they were beginning to 
 feel the first pangs of hunger, and to dread the bitter 
 end. They had awakened from their torpor, and rushed 
 about the cavern, striking their foreheads against the 
 wall, and uttering wild shrieks of despair. 
 
 These outcries were so terrible, and so suggestive of 
 wild beasts, that Andree* ceased to sob, and presently 
 fell into a profound sleep of exhaustion ; and soon the 
 other women, yielding to the pious consolations lav- 
 ished upon them by their young mistress, succumbed 
 also to exhausted nature, and relapsed into silence and 
 apparent insensibility. 
 
 We will touch but ligli tly on the hours that followed. 
 Mademoiselle spent them on her knees in prayer ; 
 Herve* had become delirious, and strange words fell 
 from his lips. Bellah made no effort to arouse him 
 from this delirium, which was at least forge tfulness. 
 
BURIED ALIVE. 273 
 
 Towards morning, she too, yielded to the sleep that 
 weighed down her heavy lids. 
 
 She was awakened by Herve"s voice calling her with 
 strange reiterance. 
 
 " Bellah ! Bellah ! " he said ; " Listen ! I hear them 
 walking in the chapel ; I hear steps ! There are people 
 in the chapel." 
 
 Bellah at first believed that the wounded man was 
 deceived by the illusions of fever, but, when she 
 listened, she heard distinctly a sound of footsteps over 
 her head. She started up, the day-light had again 
 crept into the cavern, she found the staircase, mounted 
 it rapidly, and struck the stone that covered it with 
 her hand. 
 
 " No, no, not there ! " said Herve\ u It is impossible 
 for them to hear you ; go to the opening, Bellah, and 
 call, call with all your strength ! " 
 
 Bellah rushed down the stairs, and placing her lips 
 to the aperture which chance had shown them the day 
 before, she uttered several cries in quick succession ; 
 then held her breath to listen. 
 
 " My God ! " she murmured in despair ; " I near c v 
 one sound, Herv^ ! They have left the chapel ! " 
 
 Herve* did not reply. 
 
 "If we could only all call together," continued 
 Bellah, "perhaps " 
 
 As she spoke she ran to her companions in misfor- 
 tune, and did her best to arouse them from their stupor, 
 by imploring them to jo'ij their voices to hers. Andree* 
 
 19 
 
271 BURIED ALIVE. 
 
 alone seemed to comprehend her words ; she half roaa 
 upon her knees, but fell back unconscious. Bellah 
 shook her head sadly, and then went back to the opening 
 iu the wall, and looked out. 
 
 " I see them ! " she cried ; " I see them ! " 
 
 " Who are they ? Do you know them ? " said Hervo*. 
 
 u Yes ; it is the young officer." 
 
 " Francis ? " 
 
 "And the Sergeant. I see two more they are 
 going away, but slowly and reluctantly." 
 
 u Try again, Bellah, once more ! Summon all your 
 strength. In God's name, try again ! " 
 
 Bellah repeated her cries at short intervals. 
 
 " Well, are they coming ? Do they hear ? " asked 
 Hervd, in a choked voice. 
 
 " No, no ! Good Heavens ! how cruel you are ! I 
 no longer see them they have passed the only bit of 
 the court-yard which I can see ; but there they are 
 again, at the entrance of the avenue they are going ! 
 Oh ! Lord God in Heaven ! Make them hear me ! 
 Help, Francis! Help!" 
 
 Bellah had thrown into her voice all her remaining 
 strength. Herve questioned her again, but she an- 
 swered him with difficulty. 
 
 "They have stopped. They are turning back, I 
 think. Yes ; I think they have heard me I They seem 
 to be consulting each other ! Alas ! they have gone - - 
 they have gone ! " 
 
 As Bellah uttered these last words amid strangling 
 sobs, she fell fainting upon the ground. 
 
fctJRIED ALIVE. 2?5 
 
 Herve^ had a new attack of delirium a strange 
 phantasmagoria passed before his eyes ; gay and laugh- 
 ing images dissipated the horrors of reality. He heard 
 again footsteps above his head, and fancied that there 
 was some great labor going on there. Suddenly was 
 this delirium? the pure sunlight entered the crypt in 
 floods ; human beings stood at the head of the steps ; 
 dark shadows were clearly defined against the radiant 
 sky. " Pelven ! " shouted a youthful voice. 
 
 " Help, Francis ! Help, my Francis ! " answered 
 Herve*. 
 
 The old chateau had been preserved from the fire by 
 the massive thickness of its walls, and an hour after 
 the scene we have just related, Commandant Herve* lay 
 in the great antique bed wherein he had slept in his 
 childhood. 
 
 Within the deep recess of a window, an old Surgeon 
 in uniform was arranging his professional implements. 
 A personage, whose appearance was both solemn and 
 ridiculous, and whose pantaloons were covered to the 
 knees by a white apron, raised with one hand the head 
 of the wounded man, and presented him, with the 
 other, a cup of bouillon. 
 
 "I am inclined to believe, Commandant," said this 
 singular nurse, " that you had a devilish night in that 
 .catacomb." 
 
 " Yes, my good old Bruidoux, the night was indeed 
 pretty severe. How is my sister ? " 
 
 "Coming up like a fower, Commandant. Indeed, 
 
276 BtTHIEDALIVlL. 
 
 everybody is doing well, except that poor little fellow, 
 Kado's boy, and he nearly breaks my heart. But I 
 have an idea, Commandant. I think I will adopt that 
 boy; he deserves it, for, in the first place, he is an 
 orphan; in the next place, he saved my life in the 
 forest; and lastly, he has just saved yours. If we had 
 not met him in the avenue, and if he had not led us to 
 that fissure in the rocks, we should have gone for good. 
 1 think, therefore, that I had best adopt him. I will 
 be his father; Colibri, on the other side, will act as 
 mother, because he, you know, is especially amiable 
 and gentle." 
 
 Francis came in at this moment. 
 
 " Commandant," he said, " Mademoiselle Bellah is 
 improving, ever since the Surgeon said that your wound 
 was not dangerous, and that he would bring you round 
 all right." 
 
 " I can do nothing of the sort," interposed the old 
 Surgeon, "if you do not all get out of here. I will 
 not have so much talking in this room ; do you under- 
 stand ? Now be off with you ! " 
 
 lie turned the Sergeant and Francis from the apart- 
 ment, and Herve* was soon sleeping profoundly. 
 
 THB END. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 BERKELEY 
 
 Return to desk from which borrowed. 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 8Jan52GCB 
 
 7Jan'52lU 
 
 EDU> m 24 
 
 *&R 
 
 ft 
 
 \<*W V.VJ 
 
 DEC28I9/U 
 
 LD 21-95m-ll,'50(2877sl6)476 
 
M27S839 
 
 Py234" 
 
 ^ 
 X 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 I 
 
I