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"If the Grande-Garce is to be believed there'll be a fine booty to-day. Will you go shares with me?" "Look here, Pille-Miche," said Marche-a-Terre stopping short on the flat of his stomach. The other Chouans, who were accompanying the two men, did the same, so wearied were they with the difficulties they had met with in climbing the precipice.
One morning, after the opening of the court-room and before the arrival of the judges, Pille-Miche, a famous Chouan, sprang over the balustrade into the middle of the crowd, elbowing right and left, 'charging like a wild boar, as Bordin told me, through the frightened people.
Midnight was striking. The moon rose, giving the appearance of white smoke to the fog. Pille-Miche squeezed Marche-a-Terre's arm and silently showed him on the terrace just above them, the triangular iron of several shining bayonets. "The Blues are there already," said Pille-Miche; "we sha'n't gain anything by force."
"If your Republic gets forced loans out of you for such big sums as that you must see that you would do better with us; our government would cost you less. Three hundred crowns, do you call that dear for your skin?" "Where am I to get them?" "Out of your strong-box," said Pille-Miche; "and mind that the money is forthcoming, or we'll singe you still."
Enough, Pille-Miche, enough!" said a low, gruff voice, which Francine recognized. "And won't they sleep here?" returned Pille-Miche with a laugh. "I'm afraid the Gars will be angry!" he added, too low for Francine to hear. "Well, let him," said Marche-a-Terre, in the same tone, "we shall have killed the Blues anyway. Here's that coach, which you and I had better put up."
"Inasmuch as you are Monsieur d'Orgemont, of Fougeres," said Marche-a-Terre, with an air of ironical respect, "we shall let you go in peace. Neutrality is worth that, at least." "Three hundred crowns of six francs each!" chorussed the luckless banker, Pille-Miche, and Coupiau, in three different tones. "Alas, my good friend," continued d'Orgemont, "I'm a ruined man.
A few moments later Marche-a-Terre, who had left his comrade mounting guard over his prey, led the coach from the stable to the causeway, where Pille-Miche got into it beside Mademoiselle de Verneuil, not perceiving that she was on the point of making a spring into the lake. "I say, Pille-Miche!" cried Marche-a-Terre. "What!" "I'll buy all your booty."
Just then three other Chouans rushed down the steps and entered the kitchen. Seeing Marche-a-Terre among them Pille-Miche discontinued his search, after casting upon d'Orgemont a look that conveyed the wrath of his balked covetousness. "Marie Lambrequin has come to life!" cried Marche-a-Terre, proclaiming by his manner that all other interests were of no account beside this great piece of news.
"By your leave, Monsieur Marche-a-Terre, cider and stakes are two good things which don't hinder a man's salvation." "If my cousin commits any folly," said Pille-Miche, "it will be out of ignorance." "In any way he commits it, if harm comes," said Marche-a-Terre, in a voice which made the arched roof tremble, "my gun won't miss him.
"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.
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