"Have you some base revenge to take--like that woman?" she said.Then, seeing the dead bodies on the heap of straw, she cried out, shuddering: "The faith of a gentleman! ha! ha! ha!" With a frightful laugh she added: "Ha! the glorious day!""Yes," he said, "a day without a morrow."He let go her hand and took a long, last look at the beautiful creature he could scarcely even then renounce.Neither of these proud natures yielded.The marquis may have looked for a tear, but the eyes of the girl were dry and scornful.Then he turned quickly, and left the victim to Pille-Miche.
"God will hear me, marquis," she called."I will ask Him to give you a glorious day without a morrow."Pille-Miche, not a little embarrassed with so rich a prize, dragged her away with some gentleness and a mixture of respect and scorn.The marquis, with a sigh, re-entered the dining-room, his face like that of a dead man whose eyes have not been closed.
Merle's presence was inexplicable to the silent spectators of this tragedy; they looked at him in astonishment and their eyes questioned each other.Merle saw their amazement, and, true to his native character, he said, with a smile: "Gentlemen, you will scarcely refuse a glass of wine to a man who is about to make his last journey."It was just as the company had calmed down under the influence of these words, said with a true French carelessness which pleased the Vendeans, that Montauran returned, his face pale, his eyes fixed.
"Now you shall see," said Merle, "how death can make men lively.""Ah!" said the marquis, with a gesture as if suddenly awaking, "here you are, my dear councillor of war," and he passed him a bottle of /vin de Grave/.
"Oh, thanks, citizen marquis," replied Merle."Now I can divert myself."At this sally Madame du Gua turned to the other guests with a smile, saying, "Let us spare him the dessert.""That is a very cruel vengeance, madame," he said."You forget my murdered friend who is waiting for me; I never miss an appointment.""Captain," said the marquis, throwing him his glove, "you are free;that's your passport.The Chasseurs du Roi know that they must not kill all the game.""So much the better for me!" replied Merle, "but you are making a mistake; we shall come to close quarters before long, and I'll not let you off.Though your head can never pay for Gerard's, I want it and Ishall have it.Adieu.I could drink with my own assassins, but Icannot stay with those of my friend"; and he disappeared, leaving the guests astonished at his coolness.
"Well, gentlemen, what do you think of the lawyers and surgeons and bailiffs who manage the Republic," said the Gars, coldly.
"God's-death! marquis," replied the Comte de Bauvan; "they have shocking manners; that fellow presumed to be impertinent, it seems to me."The captain's hasty retreat had a motive.The despised, humiliated woman, who was even then, perhaps, being put to death, had so won upon him during the scene of her degradation that he said to himself, as he left the room, "If she is a prostitute, she is not an ordinary one, and I'll marry her." He felt so sure of being able to rescue her from the savages that his first thought, when his own life was given to him, was to save hers.Unhappily, when he reached the portico, he found the courtyard deserted.He looked about him, listened to the silence, and could hear nothing but the distant shouts and laughter of the Chouans, who were drinking in the gardens and dividing their booty.He turned the corner to the fatal wing before which his men had been shot, and from there he could distinguish, by the feeble light of a few stray lanterns, the different groups of the Chasseurs du Roi.
Neither Pille-Miche, nor Marche-a-Terre, nor the girl were visible;but he felt himself gently pulled by the flap of his uniform, and, turning round, saw Francine on her knees.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"I don't know; Pierre drove me back and told me not to stir from here.""Which way did they go?"
"That way," she replied, pointing to the causeway.
The captain and Francine then noticed in that direction a line of strong shadows thrown by the moonlight on the lake, and among them that of a female figure.
"It is she!" cried Francine.
Mademoiselle de Verneuil seemed to be standing, as if resigned, in the midst of other figures, whose gestures denoted a debate.
"There are several," said the captain."Well, no matter, let us go to them.""You will get yourself killed uselessly," said Francine.
"I have been killed once before to-day," he said gaily.
They both walked towards the gloomy gateway which led to the causeway;there Francine suddenly stopped short.
"No," she said, gently, "I'll go no farther; Pierre told me not to meddle; I believe in him; if we go on we shall spoil all.Do as you please, officer, but leave me.If Pierre saw us together he would kill you."Just then Pille-Miche appeared in the gateway and called to the postilion who was left in the stable.At the same moment he saw the captain and covered him with his musket, shouting out, "By Saint Anne of Auray! the rector was right enough in telling us the Blues had signed a compact with the devil.I'll bring you to life, I will!""Stop! my life is sacred," cried Merle, seeing his danger."There's the glove of your Gars," and he held it out.
"Ghosts' lives are not sacred," replied the Chouan, "and I sha'n't give you yours.Ave Maria!"He fired, and the ball passed through his victim's head.The captain fell.When Francine reached him she heard him mutter the words, "I'd rather die with them than return without them."The Chouan sprang upon the body to strip it, saying, "There's one good thing about ghosts, they come to life in their clothes." Then, recognizing the Gars' glove, that sacred safeguard, in the captain's hand, he stopped short, terrified."I wish I wasn't in the skin of my mother's son!" he exclaimed, as he turned and disappeared with the rapidity of a bird.