“You don’t really believe the stories you hear of this man, I hope,” he said to his wife and sister, one morning; “he is some inhuman ruffian, who is disgracing, by his cruelty, the cause which he has joined, for the sake of plunder and rapine.”

“At any rate,” said Marie, “he seems to have scared the blues in this country; and if so, he must be a good friend to us.”

“If we cannot do well without such friends, we shall never do well with them.  Believe me, whoever he may be, this man is no soldier.”

De Lescure was, perhaps, right in the character which he attributed to the Captain of La Petite Vendee; but the band of men which that mysterious leader now commanded, held its ground in Brittany long after the Vendean armies were put down in Poitou and Anjou.  They then became known by another name, and the Chouan bands for years carried on a fearful war against the government in that part of the province which is called the Morbihan.

About eight o’clock in the evening, Henri and Arthur Mondyon returned to the house, after a long day’s work, and were the first to bring new tidings both of the blues and their new ally, the Mad Captain.  A portion of the republican army had advanced as far as Antrames, within a league or two of Laval; and they had hardly taken up their quarters in the town, before they were attacked, routed, and driven out of it by the men of La Petite Vendee.  Many hundreds of the republicans had been slaughtered, and those who had escaped, carried to the main army an exaggerated account of the numbers, daring, and cruelty of the Breton rebels.

“Whoever he is,” said Henri, in answer to a question from his sister, “he is a gallant fellow, and I shall be glad to give him my hand.  There can be no doubt of it now, Charles, for the blues at Antrames certainly numbered more than double the men he had with him; and I am told he drove them helter-skelter out of the town, like a flock of sheep.”

“And do you mean to let him have the rest of the war all to himself?” said de Lescure, who was rather annoyed than otherwise at the success of a man whom he had stigmatized as a ruffian.

“I am afraid we shan’t find it quite so easy to get the war taken off our hands,” said Henri, laughing; “but I believe it’s the part of a good General to make the most of any unexpected assistance which may come in his way.”

“But, Henri,” said Marie, “you must have some idea who this wonderful wild man is.  Don’t they say he was one of the Vendean chiefs?”

“He says so himself,” said Arthur.  “He told some of the people here that he was at Fontenay and Saumur; and he talked of knowing Cathelineau and Bonchamps.  I was speaking to a man who heard him say so.”

“And did the man say what he was like?” said Marie.

“I don’t think he saw him at all,” answered Arthur.  “It seems that he won’t let any one see his face, if he can help it; but they all say he is quite a young man.”