“You know that I must have him safe and sound.”
“That’s understood, general”
“Choose your eight men. Monsieur de Montrevel once captured, and his parole given, you can do as you like.”
“Suppose he won’t give his parole?”
“Then you must surround him so that he can’t escape, and watch him till the fight is over.”
“Very well,” said Branche-d’Or, heaving a sigh; “but it’ll be a little hard to stand by with folded arms while the others are having their fun.”
“Pooh! who knows?” said Cadoudal; “there’ll probably be enough for every body.”
Then, casting a glance over the plain and seeing his own men stationed apart, and the Republicans massed for battle, he cried: “A musket!”
They brought one. Cadoudal raised it above his head and fired in the air. Almost at the same moment, a shot fired in the same manner from the midst of the Republicans answered like an echo to that of Cadoudal.
Two drums beating the advance and a bugle were heard. Cadoudal rose in his stirrups.