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Updated: June 5, 2025
"How am I to pay it to you?" asked d'Orgemont. "Your country-house at Fougeres is not far from Gibarry's farm where my cousin Galope-Chopine, otherwise called Cibot, lives. You can pay the money to him," said Pille-Miche. "That's not business-like," said d'Orgemont. "What do we care for that?" said Marche-a-Terre.
"Why do you tell things to your wife?" said Marche-a-Terre, roughly. "Besides, cousin, we don't want excuses, we want your axe. You are condemned." At a sign from his companion, Pille-Miche helped Marche-a-Terre to seize the victim. Finding himself in their grasp Galope-Chopine lost all power and fell on his knees holding up his hands to his slayers in desperation.
"Will you take thirty francs in good coin?" said Marche-a-Terre, with a groan. "Really?" "Done?" said Marche-a-Terre, holding out his hand. "Yes, done; I can get plenty of Breton girls for that, and choice morsels, too. But the coach; whose is that?" asked Pille-Miche, beginning to reflect upon his bargain.
The Chouan flung the sticks into the fireplace, after trying the strength of an old crane which was fastened to a long iron bar; then he set fire to the wood with his torch. Marie saw with terror that the man was the same Pille-Miche to whom her rival had delivered her, and whose figure, illuminated by the flame, was like that of the little boxwood men so grotesquely carved in Germany.
Pille-Miche turned several times sharply to look at his victim, as children do when they try to guess, by the conscious expression of the comrade who has hidden an article, whether they are nearer to or farther away from it. D'Orgemont pretended to be alarmed when the Chouan tapped the ovens, which sounded hollow, and seemed to wish to play upon his eager credulity.
"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."
"Pille-Miche here could trick Saint Peter and steal the keys of Paradise," said the rector, slapping that worthy on the shoulder. "If it hadn't been for him, the Blues would have intercepted us." Then, noticing the lady, the abbe went to speak to her apart.
"The Grande Garce gave me the woman, and all that belongs to her is mine." "The coach will put a sou or two in your pocket; but as for the woman, she'll scratch your eyes out like a cat." Pille-Miche burst into a roar of laughter. "Then I'll tie her up and take her home," he answered. "Very good; suppose we harness the horses," said Marche-a-Terre.
Francine at once let go his arm, and waited in horrible suspense in the courtyard where Merle found her. Meantime Marche-a-Terre joined his comrade at the moment when the latter, after dragging his victim to the barn, was compelling her to get into the coach. Pille-Miche called to him to help in pulling out the vehicle. "What are you going to do with all that?" asked Marche-a-Terre.
At these words the whole assembly shuddered, for the hideous heads of Pille-Miche and Marche-a-Terre appeared behind the marquis, and the punishment was seen in all its horror. Francine was standing with clasped hands as though paralyzed.
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