“And you, Chapeau, what did you say to them in reply?”

“Oh, M. de Lescure, of course I said that that must be as you and M. Henri pleased.”

“Well, Chapeau, now go and tell them this,” said de Lescure:  “tell them that we will not consent that this poor wretch shall be killed, and that his miserable life has already been granted to him.  Tell them also, that if they choose to forget their duty, their obedience, and their oaths, and attempt to seize Denot’s person, neither I nor M. Henri will ever again accompany them to battle, and that they shall not lay a hand upon him till they have passed over our bodies.  Do you understand?”

Chapeau said that he did understand, and with a somewhat melancholy face, he returned to the noisy crowd, who were waiting for their victim in the front of the house.  “Well, Jacques,” said one of them, an elderly man, who had for the time taken upon himself the duties of a leader among them, and who was most loud in demanding that sentence should be passed upon Denot.  “We are ready, and the rope is ready, and the gallows is ready, and we are only waiting for the traitor.  We don’t want to hurry M. Henri or M. de Lescure, but we hope they will not keep us waiting much longer.”

“You need not wait any longer,” said Chapeau, “for Adolphe Denot is not to be hung at all.  M. de Lescure has pardoned him.  Yes, my friends, you will be spared an unpleasant job, and the rope and the tree will not be contaminated.”

“Pardoned him—­pardoned Adolphe Denot—­pardoned the traitor who brought Santerre and the republicans to Durbelliere—­pardoned the wretch who so grossly insulted Mademoiselle Agatha, and nearly killed M. le Marquis,” cried one after another immediately round the door.  “If we pardon him, there will be an end of honesty and good faith.  We will pardon our enemies, because M. de Lescure asks us.  We will willingly pardon this Santerre and all his men.  We will pardon everything and anybody, if M. Henri or M de Lescure asks it, except treason, and except a traitor.  Go in, Jacques, and say that we will never consent to forgive the wretch who insulted Mademoiselle Larochejaquelin.  By all that is sacred we will hang him!”

“If you do, my friends,” answered Chapeau, “you must kill M. de Lescure first, for he will defend him with his own body and his own sword.”

Chapeau again returned to the house, and left the peasants outside, loudly murmuring.  Hitherto they had passively obeyed their leaders.  They had gone from one scene of action to another.  They had taken towns and conquered armies, and abstained not only from slaughter, but even from plunder, at the mere request of those whom they had selected as their own Generals; now, for the first time they shewed a determination to disobey.  The offence of which their victim had been guilty, was in their eyes unpardonable.  They were freely giving all—–­their little property, their children, their blood, for their church and King.  They knew that they were themselves faithful and obedient to their leaders, and they could not bring themselves to forgive one whom they had trusted, and who had deceived them.