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The priest watched the faces of the patriot and Coupiau as the latter made this answer, and both were imperturbable. "So much the better for you," remarked the patriot. "I can now take measures to save my property in case of danger." Such despotic assumption nettled Coupiau, who answered gruffly: "I am the master of my own carriage, and so long as I drive you "
"I am Jacques Pinaud," he replied, with a glance at Coupiau; "a poor linen-draper." Coupiau made a sign in the negative, not considering it an infraction of his promise to Saint Anne. The sign enlightened Pille-Miche, who took aim at the luckless traveller, while Marche-a-Terre laid before him categorically a terrible ultimatum. "You are too fat to be poor.
"Are you a patriot, or are you a Chouan?" said the other, sharply interrupting him. "Neither the one nor the other," replied Coupiau. "I'm a postilion, and, what is more, a Breton, consequently, I fear neither Blues nor nobles." "Noble thieves!" cried the patriot, ironically. "They only take back what was stolen from them," said the rector, vehemently.
"Let him alone!" said Marche-a-Terre, shoving Pille-Miche with his elbow; "he has vowed by Saint Anne of Auray, and he must keep his word." "Very good," said Pille-Miche, addressing Coupiau; "but mind you don't go down the mountain too fast; we shall overtake you, a good reason why; I want to see the cut of your traveller, and give him his passport."
"Well done!" cried Coupiau from his wooden perch, pointing to the man in the goatskin; "you must have scented this patriot who has lots of gold in his pouch " The Chouans greeted these words with roars of laughter, crying out: "Pille-Miche! hey, Pille-Miche! Pille-Miche!" Amid the laughter, to which Pille-Miche responded like an echo, Coupiau came down from his seat quite crestfallen.
"You've got another fowl in your coop," he said in a low voice to Coupiau. "Yes," said the driver; "but I make it a condition of my joining you that I be allowed to take that worthy man safe and sound to Fougeres. I'm pledged to it in the name of Saint Anne of Auray." "Who is he?" asked Pille-Miche. "That I can't tell you," replied Coupiau.
The fumes of the cider which the patriot copiously bestowed on Coupiau during the passage of the little troop had somewhat dimmed the driver's perceptions, but he roused himself joyously when the innkeeper, having questioned the soldiers, came back to the inn and announced that the Blues were victorious. He at once brought out the coach and before long it was wending its way across the valley.
"If you'd only been armed," said Coupiau, "we might have made some defence." "Idiot!" cried d'Orgemont, pointing to his heavy shoes. "I have ten thousand francs in those soles; do you think I would be such a fool as to fight with that sum about me?" Mene-a-Bien scratched his ear and looked behind him, but his new comrades were out of sight.
Coupiau got off his seat after making a faint resistance. The silent traveller, extracted from his hiding place by the two Chouans, found himself on his knees in a furze bush. "Who are you?" asked Marche-a-Terre in a threatening voice. The traveller kept silence until Pille-Miche put the question again and enforced it with the butt end of his gun.
"My dear friends," continued the abbe, "let us pray in the first place for the souls of the dead, Jean Cochegrue, Nicalos Laferte, Joseph Brouet, Francois Parquoi, Sulpice Coupiau, all of this parish, and dead of wounds received in the fight on Mont Pelerine and at the siege of Fougeres. De profundis," etc.
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