The peasant took off his hat, pulled out the lining, and from between it and the felt he took a piece of paper which resembled another lining, and seemed at first sight to be blank. Then, with a military salute, he offered the paper to Morgan, who turned it over and over and could see no writing; at least none was apparent.
“A candle,” he said.
They brought a wax light; Morgan held the paper to the flame. Little by little, as the paper warmed, the writing appeared. The experience appeared familiar to the young men; the Breton alone seemed surprised. To his naive mind the operation probably seemed like witchcraft; but so long as the devil was aiding the royalist cause the Chouan was willing to deal with him.
“Gentlemen,” said Morgan, “do you want to know what the master says?”
All bowed and listened, while the young man read:
MY DEAR MORGAN—If you hear that I have abandoned the cause, and
am in treaty with the government of the First Consul and the
Vendéan leaders, do not believe it. I am a Breton of Brittany,
and consequently as stubborn as a true Breton. The First Consul
sent one of his aides-de-camp to offer me an amnesty for all my
men, and the rank of colonel for myself. I have not even consulted
my men, I refused for them and for me.
Now, all depends on us; as we receive from the princes neither
money nor encouragement, you are our only treasurer; close your
coffers, or rather cease to open those of the government for us,
and the royalist opposition, the heart of which beats only in
Brittany, will subside little by little, and end before long.
I need not tell you that my life will have ended first.
Our mission is dangerous; probably it will cost us our heads; but
what can be more glorious than to hear posterity say of us, if
one can hear beyond the grave: “All others despaired; but they,
never!”
One of us will survive the other, but only to succumb later. Let
that survivor say as he dies: Etiamsi omnes, ego non.
Count on me as I count on you. CADOUDAL.
P.S.—You know that you can safely give Branche-d’Or all the money
you have for the Cause. He has promised me not to let himself be
taken, and I trust his word.
A murmur of enthusiasm ran through the group, as Morgan finished the last words of the letter.
“You have heard it, gentlemen?” he said.
“Yes, yes, yes,” repeated every voice.
“In the first place, how much money have we to give to Branche-d’Or?”