III
As soon as the door had closed on Mathurin, Denise de Mortain turned to the man and said, speaking curtly and rapidly:
"Your name is Jean Blanchet. I know you. Well, tell me quickly everything you know. When was the alarm given in your camp?"
"At about half-past eleven, Madame la Marquise," replied the man. "I and six of my mates were patrolling the approaches of the town, when we heard a rumour that the garrison inside the city was astir. News had arrived, so 'twas said, that bands of Chouans were preparing a surprise attack. M. de Puisaye had his headquarters in the Cerf-Volant woods south of the town; there was only just time to run and warn him of what was in the air."
"Well?"
"M. de Puisaye at once ordered the alarm to be sounded. Within ten minutes the whole camp was afoot and M. de Puisaye then commanded the retreat."
"What?" exclaimed Madame. "Without striking a blow?"
"What would have been the use?" retorted the man with a shrug of the shoulders. "We had next to no arms, and to make a stand would have meant fighting against at least two companies of infantry and a battery of artillery, which could easily have cut us to pieces even before reinforcements came from Tinchebrai and Domfront. There is a half-battery of artillery at both those places, and we knew by then that all the garrisons round were in touch with one another. To have made a stand," reiterated the man gruffly, "would have meant useless bloodshed. M. de Puisaye was alive to that. He chose the wiser course."
"Not the most heroic," murmured Madame, under her breath.
"He had a lot of undisciplined, ill-fed, ill-clothed men to look after. What could he do? Now if we could have equipped ourselves at the factories of La Frontenay ..." he added with a harsh laugh.
"I know, I know," said Madame impatiently. "And M. de Puisaye has retreated—whither?"
"I do not know. To Avranches, I should say. The way was open, and, in any case, his losses would be very slight."
"And...." A name was on Madame's lips; she checked herself. She did not dare to speak it—not before this man ... in case....
"And M. de Courson?" she asked.
"M. de Courson must be with M. de Puisaye, I think. I believe M. d'Aché is with him and M. Prigent."
Then at last anxiety could hold out no longer. Madame had made heroic efforts to appear calm, but now the hoarse query broke from her lips: "And M. le Marquis de Mortain?"
Was it her own fevered fancy? But it seemed to her as if the man hesitated for a second or two ere he replied; he twisted his cap between his fingers, and a shock of unruly hair falling over his forehead hid the expression of his eyes.
"M. de Puisaye sent orders to M. de Mortain," he said at last, "to defend the rear in case the commandant of the garrison got wind of the retreat and sent a company in pursuit. But M. de Mortain was not at his post then. M. de Fleurot was in command."
Madame leaned her weight against the chair close by; she passed her tongue once or twice over her parched lips. The man was evidently determined not to meet her eye.
"What," she asked after a while, "was the firing which I heard in the direction of Mortain?"
"M. de Fleurot," replied Blanchet curtly, "fighting a rearguard action and covering the main retreat. I was in his company."
"And ... what was the result ... of the action, I mean?"
"I cannot say. I was taken prisoner quite early. I only heard rumours afterwards."
"What were they?"
"That our small contingent was entirely cut up ... there were some prisoners taken ... but it is generally believed that scarce a man escaped."
"And ... has anything been heard of M. de Puisaye?"
"No, Madame la Marquise, nothing."
"Or of M. de Courson, or any of the others?"
"No. But," added Blanchet significantly, as he nodded in the direction of the door, "I believe that Mathurin there knows something."
"You think ..." began Madame involuntarily. Then she paused; something in the man's look—furtive and compassionate—froze the words upon her lips.
"Can't you tell me?" she asked under her breath.
"I don't know for certain, Madame la Marquise," he replied.