I will
pacify him."

"Madame," said the marquis, after she had rejoined him and had mounted
his horse _en croupe_, giving her own to the abbe, "my friends in Paris
write me to be very careful of what we do; the Republic, they say, is
preparing to fight us with spies and treachery."

"It wouldn't be a bad plan," she replied; "they have clever ideas, those
fellows. I could take part in that sort of war and find foes."

"I don't doubt it!" cried the marquis. "Pichegru advises me to be
cautious and watchful in my friendships and relations of every kind.
The Republic does me the honor to think me more dangerous than all the
Vendeans put together, and counts on certain of my weaknesses to lay
hands upon me."

"Surely you will not distrust me?" she said, striking his heart with the
hand by which she held to him.

"Are you a traitor, madame?" he said, bending towards her his forehead,
which she kissed.

"In that case," said the abbe, referring to the news, "Fouche's police
will be more dangerous for us than their battalions of recruits and
counter-Chouans."

"Yes, true enough, father," replied the marquis.

"Ah! ah!" cried the lady. "Fouche means to send women against you, does
he? I shall be ready for them," she added in a deeper tone of voice and
after a slight pause.

* * * * *

At a distance of three or four gunshots from the plateau, now abandoned,
a little scene was taking place which was not uncommon in those days
on the high-roads. After leaving the little village of La Pelerine,
Pille-Miche and Marche-a-Terre again stopped the turgotine at a dip in
the road. Coupiau got off his seat after making a faint resistance. The
silent traveller, extracted from his hiding place by the two Chouans,
found himself on his knees in a furze bush.

"Who are you?" asked Marche-a-Terre in a threatening voice.

The traveller kept silence until Pille-Miche put the question again and
enforced it with the butt end of his gun.

"I am Jacques Pinaud," he replied, with a glance at Coupiau; "a poor
linen-draper."

Coupiau made a sign in the negative, not considering it an infraction
of his promise to Saint Anne. The sign enlightened Pille-Miche, who
took aim at the luckless traveller, while Marche-a-Terre laid before him
categorically a terrible ultimatum.

"You are too fat to be poor. If you make me ask you your name again,
here's my friend Pille-Miche, who will obtain the gratitude and
good-wil