After supper was over, Annot had no difficulty in inducing her brothers to leave the house, and thus the coast was left clear for Jacques to ask the father’s consent to his intended marriage.  Neither he nor Annot expected much difficulty in persuading Michael to accept of so promising a son-in-law; but they were both determined that if they could not marry with his consent, they would do so without it.  So Chapeau lighted his pipe, and sat himself down opposite the smith, and Annot retired to her own little sleeping chamber, where she might conveniently hear what her father and lover said to each other, respecting her intended nuptials.

“Well, Michael Stein, my old friend,” said Jacques; “these are glorious times, are they not?  The rebels beaten hollow, till they haven’t a face to shew for themselves, and the King coming to La Vendee, to enjoy his own again; it will be a fine thing to see the King riding into the village of Echanbroignes to thank the gallant peasants, with his own mouth, for what they have done for him!”

“Yes, M. Chapeau! those will be fine times when they come; pray God you, and other young fellows like you, may live to see them; an old fellow like me has little chance of such happiness.”

“And why not, my friend? what is to make those days so far off?  I tell you, Michael Stein, the rebels were dead beaten at Saumur; they are scattered like chaff; their very best soldiers are altogether hors de combat; the war is as good as over.  We may have to make a little trip or two, just to receive the English, who are coming to help us; we may have to go and meet them on the coast; or perhaps to Parthenay, to ask M. Santerre what he wants in that part of the world; but that is all, literally all; I tell you the rebels are clean beaten.”

“I only wonder then, M. Chapeau, why you want the English to come and help you, if, as you say, you have conquered all the republicans yourselves?”

“Just to pay their respects to the King, and, perhaps, to lend us a hand in driving those Jacobins out of Paris—­that’s all.  Till that’s done the King is to live at Saumur.”

“To live at Saumur, is he?”

“That’s what those say who know most about it, and you know I’m in the way to know what’s really going forward.  He’s to hold his court at Saumur, and Henri Larochejaquelin is to be commandant of the town, and have the command of all the forces there.  I tell you, Michael Stein, we, that wear the red scarfs, will not be the worse off then.”

“I hope not; in truth, M. Chapeau, I hope not; though they do say that they be not wise who put their trust in princes.”

“Princes!” said Jacques, “I am not talking of princes, I am talking of the King himself, God bless him!”

“Well, perhaps, that does make a difference; and I say, God bless him too, with all my heart.”

“I suppose you’ve heard, Michael Stein, that our young General, M. Henri, is going to be married?”