“We are about to judge you,” said the Chouan. “Priest of God, you have betrayed the Church; child of France, you have condemned your king to death.”
“Alas! alas!” stammered the priest.
“Is it true?”
“I do not deny it.”
“Because it is impossible to deny. What have you to say in justification?”
“Citizens—”
“We are not citizens,” cried Sabre-tout, in a voice thunder, “we are royalists.”
“Gentlemen—”
“We are not gentlemen; we are Chouans.”
“My friends—”