“Did he reply to the three passwords?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then let him in.”
The lay brother retired to the subterranean passage, and reappeared a couple of minutes later leading a man easily recognized by his costume as a peasant, and by his square head with its shock of red hair for a Breton. He advanced in the centre of the circle without appearing in the least intimidated, fixing his eyes on each of the monks in turn, and waiting until one of these twelve granite statues should break silence. The president was the first to speak to him.
“From whom do you come?” he asked him.
“He who sent me,” replied the peasant, “ordered me to answer, if I were asked that question, that I was sent by Jehu.”
“Are you the bearer of a verbal or written message?”
“I am to reply to the questions which you ask me, and exchange a slip of paper for some money.”
“Very good; we will begin with the questions. What are our brothers in the Vendée doing?”
“They have laid down their arms and are awaiting only a word from you to take them up again.”