.
am, Chante-en-Hiver,” answered a second peasant as he stepped forward.
“How many men do you have with you, Moustache?”
“One hundred, General.”
“How many men are with you, Chante-en-Hiver?”
“Fifty, General.”
“So, are there one hundred fifty in all?” asked Cadoudal.
“Yes,” the two Breton leaders answered together.
“Does that match your figure, Colonel?” asked George with a laugh.
“You are a magician, General.”
“No, I am only a poor Chouan, just another unfortunate Breton. I command a troop in which each brain knows what it’s doing and in which each heart beats for the two great principles of this world: religion and royalty.” Then, turning toward his men: “Who is commanding the vanguard?” he asked.
“Fend-l’Air,” the two Chouans answered.
“And the rear guard?”
“La Giberne.”
“So we can safely continue on?” Cadoudal asked the two Chouans.
“As if you were going to mass in your village church,” Fend-l’Air answered.
“Let’s continue on, then,” Cadoudal said to Roland. And turning back to his troops, he said: “Now scatter, my good men!”
In an instant, every man had leaped across the ditch and disappeared. For a few seconds, the horsemen could hear branches rustling and a trace of footsteps in the underbrush. Then nothing at all.
“Well,” said Cadoudal. “Do you believe that with such men I have anything to fear from your Blues, however brave and skillful they might be?”
Roland sighed. He agreed totally with Cadoudal.
They continued riding.
About one league from La Trinité, they saw on the road a dark mass that kept getting larger. Suddenly it stopped.
“What’s that?” asked Roland.
“A man,” said Cadoudal.
“I can see that,” Roland answered. “But who is it?”
“By his speed, you ought to have guessed that it’s a messenger.”
“Why has he stopped?”
“Why, because he saw three men on horseback, and he doesn’t know if he should continue forward or start back.”
“What will he do?”
“He’s waiting before he decides.”
“Waiting for what?”
“A signal, of course.”
“And will he respond to the signal?”
“Not merely respond; he’ll obey it. Would you like him to come forward or move backward? Or to jump to one side?”
“I would like him to come forward,” said Roland. “That way we can find out what news he’s bringing.”
The Breton leader imitated a cuckoo’s call with such perfection that Roland looked around for the bird. “It’s me,” said Cadoudal. “No need to look around.”
“So the messenger will start toward us?”
“No, he is already on his way.”
And indeed, the messenger had begun moving rapidly forward. In just a few seconds he was beside his general.
“Ah!” Cadoudal said. “Is that you, Monte-à-l’Assaut?”
The general leaned forward, and Monte-à-l’Assaut whispered a few words in his ear.
“I have already been warned by Bénédicité,” said George.
After exchanging several words with Monte-à-l’Assaut, Cadoudal twice more imitated the call of a barn owl and then once again a screech owl. In an instant he was surrounded by his three hundred men.
“We’re getting close,” he said to Roland, “and we need to leave the highway.”
Just above the village of Trédion they started out across the fields. Then, leaving Vannes on their left, they reached Trefféan. But instead of following the road into the village, the Breton leader went to the edge of a little woods that extends from Grand-Champ to Larré and ventured no farther. Cadoudal seemed to be waiting for some news.
A grayish glow appeared in the direction of Trefféan and Saint-Nolff. It was the first glimmer of dawn, but a thick layer of fog arising from the ground made it impossible to see more than fifty steps ahead.
Suddenly, about five hundred steps away, they heard a cock crow. George pricked up his ears. The Chouans looked at each other and laughed. The cock crowed once more, closer this time. “It’s him,” said Cadoudal. “Answer him.”
Roland heard a howl three steps away; it imitated a dog with such perfection that the young man, although forewarned, looked around for the animal that was howling so lugubriously. At the same moment, out of the fog, the two horsemen saw a man coming rapidly toward them.
Cadoudal moved forward a few feet, then raised his finger to his mouth to warn the man to speak quietly. “Well, Fleur-d’Epine,” George asked, “have we got them?”
“Like a mouse in a trap. Not a single one will return to Vannes if that is your wish, General.”
“Oh, I could ask for nothing more. How many of them are there?”
“One hundred men, commanded by General Harty in person.”
“How many carts?”
“Seventeen.”
“Are they far from here?”
“Approximately three quarters of a league.”
“What road are they following?”
“The road from Grand-Champ to Vannes.”
“That’s exactly what we need.”
Cadoudal called together his four lieutenants: Branche-d’Or, Monte-à-l’Assaut, Fend-l’Air, and La Giberne. The general gave each his orders, and each in turn gave a screech-owl call to his fifty men.
The fog was getting thicker and thicker. In less than a hundred steps each band of fifty men disappeared into it like a host of shadows.
Cadoudal remained with a hundred men and Fleur-d’Epine.
“Well, General,” asked Roland when Cadoudal returned, “is everything going as planned?”
“Pretty much,” answered Cadoudal, “and in a half hour you will be able to judge for yourself.”
“Not if the fog stays as thick as this.”
Cadoudal looked around him. “In a half hour the fog will have completely dissipated. Shall we use this time to eat a bit and have a morning drink?”
“Well, General,” said Roland, “I admit that the five or six hours of riding have given me quite an appetite.”
“And I,” said George, “I don’t mind telling you that I always like to eat as well as I can before battle. When you leave for eternity, it’s best to leave, whenever possible, on a full stomach.”
“Ah!” said Roland. “You are going to fight?”
“That’s why I’m here, and since we are dealing with your Republican friends and with General Harty in person, I doubt that they will surrender without a fight.”
“Do the Republicans know that they will be fighting against you?”