the Blues almost masters of the Chouans, the marquis and
his friends rushed into the valley of the Nancon to support their men.
The rocks were now covered with straggling groups of furious combatants
deciding the question of life or death on a ground and with weapons that
were more favorable to the Goatskins. Slowly this moving arena widened.
The Chouans, recovering themselves, gained the rocks, thanks to the
shrubs and bushes which grew here and there among them. For a moment
Mademoiselle de Verneuil felt alarmed as she saw, rather late, her
enemies swarming over the summit and defending the dangerous paths by
which alone she could descend. Every issue on the mountain was occupied
by one or other of the two parties; afraid of encountering them she left
the tree behind which she had been sheltering, and began to run in
the direction of the farm which d'Orgemont had mentioned to her. After
running some time on the slope of Saint-Sulpice which overlooks the
valley of Couesnon she saw a cow-shed in the distance, and thought it
must belong to the house of Galope-Chopine, who had doubtless left his
wife at home and alone during the fight. Mademoiselle de Verneuil hoped
to be able to pass a few hours in this retreat until it was possible for
her to return to Fougeres without danger. According to all appearance
Hulot was to triumph. The Chouans were retreating so rapidly that she
heard firing all about her, and the fear of being shot made her hasten
to the cottage, the chimney of which was her landmark. The path she was
following ended at a sort of shed covered with a furze-roof, supported
by four stout trees with the bark still on them. A mud wall formed the
back of this shed, under which were a cider-mill, a flail to thresh
buckwheat, and several agricultural implements. She stopped before one
of the posts, unwilling to cross the dirty bog which formed a sort of
courtyard to the house which, in her Parisian ignorance, she had taken
for a stable.

The cabin, protected from the north wind by an eminence towering above
the roof, which rested against it, was not without a poetry of its
own; for the tender shoots of elms, heather, and various rock-flowers
wreathed it with garlands. A rustic staircase, constructed between the
shed and the house, enabled the inhabitants to go to the top of the rock
and breathe a purer air. On the left, the eminence sloped abruptly down,
giving to view a series of fields, the first of which belonged