“I am a republican,” said Denot.

“The Republic is made happy by your adhesion,” said Barrere, bowing to him with mock solemnity across the table.

“What surety do you mean to offer us, citizen Denot,” said Westerman, “that you are acting with us in good faith?”

“Do I not give you my life?” said Denot.  “What other surety can I give, or can you require?  What am I, or what are the royalists to gain by my proving false?”

“You say truly,” answered Westerman; “you give us your life as a surety for your good faith to us.  You may be assured that we will exact the penalty, if we have the slightest suspicion of foul play.”

Denot made no answer, and he was questioned no further.  The party soon after broke up, and the young deserter was handed over to the care of one of Santerre’s sub-officers, with injunctions that he should be well and civilly treated, but that he should not be allowed to go abroad by himself; in fact, he was to be regarded as a prisoner.

“Do not be disheartened,” said Santerre to him.  “You can understand that under the circumstances, such precautions must be necessary.  The day after tomorrow we start on our march, and you shall ride close to myself.  When Clisson and Durbelliere are in ashes, you shall be free to take your own course; in the meantime, no indignity shall be offered to you.”

On the day named by Santerre, the whole republican army started from Angers, and commenced their march towards the Bocage.  They proceeded on their route for several days without finding any enemy to contend with.  They kept on the northern shore of the Loire till they reached Saumur, where they remained a couple of days, and employed themselves in punishing the inhabitants in whose houses the leaders of the Vendeans had been entertained.  It was in vain that these poor men pleaded that they had not even opened their doors to the royalists till after the republican General had capitulated; that they had given nothing which they had been able to refuse, and, in fact, that they had only sold their goods and let their rooms to the Vendeans, when they could not possibly have declined to do so.  Their arguments were of no avail; they were thrown into prison as criminals, and left for trial by the revolutionary tribunal.

Although Saumur had so lately been besieged and taken by the royalists, there was hardly a vestige of the conquerors left in it.  Their attempt to place a garrison in the town had proved entirely a failure; the peasants who had undertaken the work had left the place by scores at a time, and before a fortnight was over, the commandant found himself with about twenty-five men, and consequently he marched back into La Vendee after his army.  The town was perfectly tranquil when the republicans entered it, but the citizens were afflicted and out of spirits; their. shops were closed, and their goods hidden; the bakers had no bread, the butchers no meat, and the grocers had neither oil nor sugar.  They knew well what it was to sell their merchandise to the troops of the Convention, and to be paid for them by the government in assignats.