, shining with sincerity.
That secret once penetrated, all is clear. We can comprehend the depth
of convictions that are not thoughts, but living principles,--clear,
distinct, downright, and as immaculate as the ermine itself. We
understand that sale made to his sister before the war; which provided
for all, and faced all, death, confiscation, exile. The beauty of the
character of these two old people (for the sister lived only for and by
the brother) cannot be understood to its full extent by the right of
the selfish morals, the uncertain aims, and the inconstancy of this our
epoch. An archangel, charged with the duty of penetrating to the inmost
recesses of their hearts could not have found one thought of personal
interest. In 1814, when the rector of Guerande suggested to the baron
that he should go to Paris and claim his recompense from the triumphant
Bourbons, the old sister, so saving and miserly for the household, cried
out:--

"Oh, fy! does my brother need to hold out his hand like a beggar?"

"It would be thought I served a king from interest," said the old man.
"Besides, it is for him to remember. Poor king! he must be weary indeed
of those who harass him. If he gave them all France in bits, they still
would ask."

This loyal servant, who had spent his life and means on Louis XVIII.,
received the rank of colonel, the cross of Saint-Louis, and a stipend of
two thousand francs a year.

"The king did remember!" he said when the news reached him.

No one undeceived him. The gift was really made by the Duc de Feltre.
But, as an act of gratitude to the king, the baron sustained a siege at
Guerande against the forces of General Travot. He refused to surrender
the fortress, and when it was absolutely necessary to evacuate it he
escaped into the woods with a band of Chouans, who continued armed until
the second restoration of the Bourbons. Guerande still treasures the
memory of that siege.

We must admit that the Baron du Guenic was illiterate as a peasant. He
could read, write, and do some little ciphering; he knew the military
art and heraldry, but, excepting always his prayer-book, he had not read
three volumes in the course of his life. His clothing, which is not
an insignificant point, was invariably the same; it consisted of
stout shoes, ribbed stockings, breeches of greenish velveteen, a cloth
waistcoat, and a loose coat with a collar, from which hung the cross of
Saint-Louis. A noble serenity now reigned