dance all night, and was known to possess in her on right some mysterious little fortune, left to her by nobody knew what grandfather or grandmother, and amounting, so said report, to the comfortable sum of five hundred francs.  When Chapeau had risen to some high military position, a field-marshal’s baton, or the gold-laced cap of a serjeant-major, with whom could he share his honours better than with his dear little friend, Annot Stein?  Jacques wanted her advice upon this subject, and he therefore rejoiced greatly that the path of duty was leading him this morning to Echanbroignes.

“We may be sure, Father Jerome,” said Henri, “of those men from St. Michael?”

“Of every man.  You will find there will not be a defaulter.”

“God send it; one traitor makes many, as sheep follow each other through a hedge row.”

“Do not fear them, my son.  Father Francois has the list of them; he will have every man collected by daylight on the 7th, and he will come on with them himself as far as the cross-roads; they will there meet my own children from St. Laud.”

“There were to be one hundred and seventy-five from St. Michael.”

“Yes; and one hundred and forty from St. Laud; and thirty will have joined us from Petit Ange de Poitou before we reach the turn from St. Michael.”

“And have you positively determined you will start with them from St. Laud’s yourself, Father Jerome.”

“With God’s will, my son, I most assuredly shall do so; and from that to the walls of Saumur, they shall see before them my tattered Cure’s frock, and the blessed symbol of their hope.  I will carry the cross before them from the porch of the little church which shall once more be my own, till I plant it on the citadel of Saumur beside the standard of the King.”

“Oh! if we had a few more Father Jeromes!” said Henri.

“There might perhaps be more soldiers in La Vendee than at present; but perhaps also there would be fewer Christians,” said the priest.  “May God forgive me if, in my zeal for my King, I am too remiss in His service.”

They rode on a little way in silence, for Father Jerome felt a slight qualm of conscience at his warlike proceedings, and Henri did not like to interrupt his meditations; but the Cure soon recovered himself.

“I shall have a goodly assemblage of followers,” said he, “before I reach Coron.  Those from Echanbroignes will join us half-a-mile from the town.  There will be above two hundred from Echanbroignes.”

“Will there?  So many as that, think you?”

“They will muster certainly not short of two hundred.  Near seven hundred men will follow me into Coron on the evening of the 7th.”

“They will find provisions there in plenty—­meat, bread, and wine.  They are not used to lie soft; they will not grumble at having clean straw to sleep on.”

“They shall grumble at nothing, my friend; if your care can supply them with food, well; if not, we will find bread enough among the townsfolk.  There is not a housewife in Coron, who would refuse me the contents of her larder.”