found enthusiasm of the
congregation, mute till then, broke forth and resounded in a formidable
manner.

"_Domine salvum fac regem_!" was the prayer which the preacher intoned
in an echoing voice, and was then sung vehemently by the people. The
cry had something savage and warlike in it. The two notes of the word
_regem_, readily interpreted by the peasants, were taken with such
energy that Mademoiselle de Verneuil's thoughts reverted almost tenderly
to the exiled Bourbon family. These recollections awakened those of her
past life. Her memory revived the fetes of a court now dispersed, in
which she had once a share. The face of the marquis entered her reverie.
With the natural mobility of a woman's mind she forgot the scene before
her and reverted to her plans of vengeance, which might cost her her
life or come to nought under the influence of a look. Seeing a branch of
holly the trivial thought crossed her mind that in this decisive moment,
when she wished to appear in all her beauty at the ball, she had no
decoration for her hair; and she gathered a tuft of the prickly leaves
and shining berries with the idea of wearing them.

"Ho! ho! my gun may miss fire on a duck, but on a Blue, never!" cried
Galope-Chopine, nodding his head in sign of satisfaction.

Marie examined her guide's face attentively, and found it of the type of
those she had just seen. The old Chouan had evidently no more ideas than
a child. A naive joy wrinkled his cheeks and forehead as he looked at
his gun; but a pious conviction cast upon that expression of his joy
a tinge of fanaticism, which brought into his face for an instant the
signs of the vices of civilization.

Presently they reached a village, or rather a collection of huts like
that of Galope-Chopine, where the rest of the congregation arrived
before Mademoiselle de Verneuil had finished the milk and bread and
butter which formed the meal. This irregular company was led by the
abbe, who held in his hand a rough cross draped with a flag, followed
by a gars, who was proudly carrying the parish banner. Mademoiselle de
Verneuil was compelled to mingle with this detachment, which was on its
way, like herself, to Saint-James, and would naturally protect her from
all danger as soon as Galope-Chopine informed them that the Gars glove
was in her possession, provided always that the abbe did not see her.

Towards sunset the three travellers arrived safely at Saint-James, a
little town which owe