ted under orders from the Gars,
whose bold attempt failed (although he did not know this) in consequence
of the massacre at La Vivetiere, which had brought Hulot secretly and in
all haste to Fougeres. The artillery had arrived only that evening, and
the news had not reached Montauran; otherwise, he would certainly
have abandoned an enterprise which, if it failed, could only have bad
results. As soon as he heard the guns the marquis knew it would be
madness to continue, out of mere pride, a surprise which had missed
fire. Therefore, not to lose men uselessly, he sent at once to all
points of the attack, ordering an immediate retreat. The commandant,
seeing his adversary on the rocks of Saint-Sulpice surrounded by a
council of men, endeavored to pour a volley upon him; but the spot was
cleverly selected, and the young leader was out of danger in a moment.
Hulot now changed parts with his opponent and became the aggressor. At
the first sign of the Gars' intention, the company stationed under the
walls of the castle were ordered to cut off the Chouans' retreat by
seizing the upper outlet of the valley of the Nancon.

Notwithstanding her desire for revenge, Mademoiselle de Verneuil's
sympathies were with the men commanded by her lover, and she turned
hastily to see if the other end of the valley were clear for them; but
the Blues, conquerors no doubt on the opposite side of Fougeres, were
returning from the valley of Couesnon and taking possession of the
Nid-aux-Crocs and that portion of the Saint-Sulpice rocks which overhang
the lower end of the valley of the Nancon. The Chouans, thus hemmed in
to the narrow fields of the gorge, seemed in danger of perishing to the
last man, so cleverly and sagaciously were the commandant's measures
taken. But Hulot's cannon were powerless at these two points; and here,
the town of Fougeres being quite safe, began one of those desperate
struggles which denoted the character of Chouan warfare.

Mademoiselle de Verneuil now comprehended the presence of the masses
of men she had seen as she left the town, the meeting of the leaders at
d'Orgemont's house, and all the other events of the night, wondering
how she herself had escaped so many dangers. The attack, prompted
by desperation, interested her so keenly that she stood motionless,
watching the living pictures as they presented themselves to her sight.
Presently the struggle at the foot of the mountain had a deeper interest
for her. Seeing