ad scorned her, but she saw nothing in him that betrayed the
slightest feeling of alarm. She warned him by a bitter smile that she
had now discovered the secret so treacherously kept; then in a jesting
voice, her nostrils dilating with pleasure, and her head so turned
that she could watch the young man and yet see Merle, she said to the
Republican: "That new leader gives a great deal of anxiety to the First
Consul. He is very daring, they say; but he has the weakness of rushing
headlong into adventures, especially with women."

"We are counting on that to get even with him," said the captain. "If we
catch him for only an hour we shall put a bullet in his head. He'll do
the same to us if he meets us, so _par pari_--"

"Oh!" said the _emigre_, "we have nothing to fear. Your soldiers cannot
go as far as La Pelerine, they are tired, and, if you consent, we can
all rest a short distance from here. My mother stops at La Vivetiere,
the road to which turns off a few rods farther on. These ladies might
like to stop there too; they must be tired with their long drive from
Alencon without resting; and as mademoiselle," he added, with forced
politeness, "has had the generosity to give safety as well as pleasure
to our journey, perhaps she will deign to accept a supper from my
mother; and I think, captain," he added, addressing Merle, "the times
are not so bad but what we can find a barrel of cider for your men. The
Gars can't have taken all, at least my mother thinks not--"

"Your mother?" said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, interrupting him in a tone
of irony, and making no reply to his invitation.

"Does my age seem more improbable to you this evening, mademoiselle?"
said Madame du Gua. "Unfortunately I was married very young, and my son
was born when I was fifteen."

"Are you not mistaken, madame?--when you were thirty, perhaps."

Madame du Gua turned livid as she swallowed the sarcasm. She would have
liked to revenge herself on the spot, but was forced to smile, for she
was determined at any cost, even that of insult, to discover the nature
of the feelings that actuated the young girl; she therefore pretended
not to have understood her.

"The Chouans have never had a more cruel leader than the Gars, if we are
to believe the stories about him," she said, addressing herself vaguely
to both Francine and her mistress.

"Oh, as for cruel, I don't believe that," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil;
"he knows how to lie, but he seems rat