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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Oh, is that all?" exclaimed Marche-a-Terre. He gave a signal and a shower of bullets riddled the turgotine. At this unexpected volley the old vehicle gave forth such a lamentable cry that the Chouans, superstitious by nature, recoiled in terror; but Marche-a-Terre caught sight of the pallid face of the silent traveller rising from the floor of the coach.
He therefore checked Gerard, whose hand was on his sword to despatch him; but he placed two soldiers beside the man he now felt to be a spy, and ordered them in a loud, clear voice to shoot him at the next sound he made. In spite of his imminent danger Marche-a-Terre showed not the slightest emotion.
"Five hundred thousand crowns yes, I'll give them," cried the victim. "Well, where are they?" answered Pille-Miche, tranquilly. "Under the first apple-tree Holy Virgin! at the bottom of the garden to the left you are brigands thieves! Ah! I'm dying there's ten thousand francs " "Francs! we don't want francs," said Marche-a-Terre; "those Republican coins have pagan figures which oughtn't to pass."
Marche-a-Terre took it by the hair, left the room, sought and found a large nail in the rough casing of the door, and wound the hair about it; leaving the bloody head, the eyes of which he did not even close, to hang there.
Finding that Marche-a-Terre and Pille-Miche had not appeared at the cottage, he relieved the apprehensions of his wife, who went off, reassured, to the rocks of Saint-Sulpice, where she had collected the night before several piles of fagots, now covered with hoarfrost. The boy went with her, carrying fire in a broken wooden shoe.
You will answer for him to me," he added, turning to Pille-Miche; "for if he does wrong I shall take it out on the thing that fills your goatskin." "But, Monsieur Marche-a-Terre, with all due respect," said Galope-Chopine, "haven't you sometimes taken a counterfeit Chouan for a real one."
He took his mistress gently by the hand, looked at her for a moment and said: "Is the lady you are with really Mademoiselle de Verneuil?" Francine stood with hanging arms, her eyelids lowered, her head bowed, pale and speechless. "She is a strumpet!" cried Marche-a-Terre, in a terrifying voice. At the word the pretty hand once more covered his lips, but this time he sprang back violently.
Marche-a-Terre curled himself up in such a way that the cleverest spy, at any distance far or near, might have taken him for one of those huge dogs that drag the hand-carts, lying asleep with his muzzle on his paws. The behavior of the Chouan proved to Francine that he had not recognized her.
"What will become of me?" exclaimed the young girl, sorrowfully. Marche-a-Terre looked at her stupidly; his eyes seemed to enlarge; tears rolled down his hairy cheeks upon the goatskin which covered him, and a low moan came from his breast. "Saint Anne of Auray! Pierre, is this all you have to say to me after a parting of seven years? You have changed indeed."
The possessed of devils whom the Church in former days used to exorcise with great pomp were not more shaken and agitated than Marche-a-Terre at this prophecy, uttered with a conviction that gave it certainty.
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