The old man silently rejected Chapeau’s proposal that he should evince his loyalty just at present by shouting out the Vendean war-cry.  “I take no credit, M. Chapeau,” said he, “for suffering for my King, though, while he lived, he always had my poor prayers for his safety.  It wasn’t to fight the blues that I left my little home.  It was because I couldn’t stay any without fearing to see that girl there in the rude hands of Lechelle’s soldiers, and my own roof in a blaze.  It’s all gone now, forge and tools; the old woman’s chair, the children’s cradle; it’s all gone, now and for ever.  I don’t wish to curse any one, M. Chapeau, but I am not in the humour to cry Vive le Roi!”

“But Michael Stein, my dear friend,” urged Chapeau, “look what others have lost too.  Have not others suffered as much?  Look at the old Marquis, turned out of his house and everything lost; and yet you won’t hear a word of complaint fall from his mouth.  Look at Madame de Lescure, her husband dying; her house burnt to the ground; without a bed to lie on, or a change of dress and yet she does not complain.”

“They have brought it on themselves by their own doings,” answered the smith; “and they have brought it on me also, who have done nothing.”

“Done nothing! but, indeed, you have, Michael.  Have you not made pikes for us, and have not your sons fought for us like brave soldiers?”

“I have done the work for which I was paid, as a good smith should; and as for the boys, they took their own way.  No, Jacques Chapeau, I have taken no part in your battles.  I have neither been for nor against you.  As for King or Republic, it was all one to me; let them who understand such things settle that.  For fifty years I have earned my bread, and paid what I owed; and now I am driven out from my home like a fox from its hole.  Why should I say Vive le Roi!  Look at that girl there, with her bare feet bleeding from the sharp stones, and tell me, why should I say Vive le Roi!”

Chapeau was flabbergasted, for all this was rank treason to him; and yet he didn’t want to quarrel with the smith; so he sat still and gazed into his face, as though he were struck dumb with astonishment.

“I remember when you came to my cottage,” continued the old man, “and told me that the wars were all over, that the King was coming to Durbelliere, and that you would marry Annot, and make a fine lady of her.  I told you then what I thought of your soldiering, and your fine ladies.  I told you then what it would come to, and I told you true.  I don’t throw this in your teeth to blame you, M. Chapeau, for you have only served those you were bound to serve; but surely they who first put guns and swords into the hands of the poor people, and bade them go out for soldiers, will have much to answer for.  All this blood will be upon their heads.”

“You don’t mean to blame M. Henri and M. de Lescure, and the good Cathelineau, for all that they’ve done?” said Chapeau, awe-struck at the language used by his companion.