"The man you are hiding in your stable; the one you go every night to nurse and comfort."
"But who told you?"
"Pooh! do you think anything can be hidden from Maître Jacques? All I say is true, la Picaut, and it makes Maître Jacques the Chouan, Maître Jacques the Chauffeur, proud to be among your friends."
"But the gars is a very sick man; he has hardly strength to stand, and then only by leaning on the wall."
"He'll find strength, never fear; he's a man,--a man indeed such as there'll be no more of after we have gone," said the Vendéan, with savage pride; "and if he can't take the field himself he'll make others do so. Tell him merely that he must warn Nantes instantly, without losing a minute, a second; he must warn he knows who. That other man who was here is already on the march while we are talking."
"It shall be done, Maître Jacques."
"Ah! if that rascal Joseph had only spoken sooner!" resumed Maître Jacques, raising his body to stop the blood which was rushing violently to his chest. "He knew, I am certain, what was plotting between these two villains; but he had them in his power and he never thought to die. Well! man proposes, and God disposes. It must have been the booty that tempted him. By the bye, widow, you ought to be able to find that booty somewhere."
"What must I do with it?"
"Divide it in two parts; give one to the orphans this war has made, white as well as blue; that's my share. The other belongs to Joseph; give that to his children."
Courtin gave a sigh of anguish; for the words were spoken loud enough for him to hear.