ccupying it.

"Double-quick, march!" cried Hulot to his men, "open your compasses and
trot the steeds faster than that! Are your legs frozen?"

These words drove the little troop into a rapid motion.

"There's a mystery, and it's hard to make out," continued Hulot,
speaking to his friends. "God grant it isn't explained by muskets at
Ernee. I'm very much afraid that we shall find the road to Mayenne cut
off by the king's men."

* * * * *

The strategical problem which troubled the commandant was causing quite
as much uneasiness to the persons whom he had just seen on the summit
of Mont Pelerine. As soon as the drums of the National Guard were out
of hearing and Marche-a-Terre had seen the Blues at the foot of the
declivity, he gave the owl's cry joyously, and the Chouans reappeared,
but their numbers were less. Some were no doubt busy in taking care of
the wounded in the little village of La Pelerine, situated on the side
of the mountain which looks toward the valley of Couesnon. Two or
three chiefs of what were called the "Chasseurs du Roi" clustered about
Marche-a-Terre. A few feet apart sat the young noble called The Gars, on
a granite rock, absorbed in thoughts excited by the difficulties of his
enterprise, which now began to show themselves. Marche-a-Terre screened
his forehead with his hand from the rays of the sun, and looked gloomily
at the road by which the Blues were crossing the valley of La Pelerine.
His small black eyes could see what was happening on the hill-slopes on
the other side of the valley.

"The Blues will intercept the messenger," said the angry voice of one of
the leaders who stood near him.

"By Saint Anne of Auray!" exclaimed another. "Why did you make us fight?
Was it to save your own skin from the Blues?"

Marche-a-Terre darted a venomous look at his questioner and struck the
ground with his heavy carbine.

"Am I your leader?" he asked. Then after a pause he added, pointing to
the remains of Hulot's detachment, "If you had all fought as I did, not
one of those Blues would have escaped, and the coach could have got here
safely."

"They'd never have thought of escorting it or holding it back if we had
let them go by without a fight. No, you wanted to save your precious
skin and get out of their hands--He has bled us for the sake of his own
snout," continued the orator, "and made us lose twenty thousand francs
in good coin."

"Snout yourself!" cried Mar