"Yes," said Jean Oullier, "and give me time to reload. Meantime, do you look about."
Jean Oullier reloaded his gun, and Courte-Joie turned his eyes in a circle around him.
"Oh, ten million thunders!" exclaimed the cripple suddenly, just as the Vendéan was ramming in his second ball.
"What now?" said Jean Oullier, turning round.
"Forward! all the devils of hell! forward! I don't see anything yet, but I hear something that bodes no good."
"Whew! they are doing us the honor of cavalry, gars Courte-Joie. Quick, quick, lazy-bones!" he added, addressing Trigaud.
The latter, as much to relieve his lungs as to make answer to Jean Oullier, gave vent to a sort of bellow which a lusty Poitevin bull might have envied him, and then with a single stride he jumped an enormous stone which lay on his way; as he did so a cry of pain burst from Jean Oullier.
"What's the matter?" asked Courte-Joie, looking back to the latter, who had stopped and was leaning on his gun with his foot raised.
"Nothing, nothing," replied Oullier; "don't trouble about me."
He tried to walk, gave another cry, and sat down.