"Yes," replied Cadoudal; "I had my manifesto printed there the day before yesterday. The manager is a worthy man named Borel, who is entirely with us."
"I have a good mind," said Coster, "since I have nothing else to do, to get into Mademoiselle de Fargas's carriage, go to Vitré, and order some placards inviting the people of La Guerche, including the six thousand Blues, to witness the execution, by his own executioner, and his own guillotine, of François Goulin, government commissioner. It would be a good joke, and it would amuse our people in the Paris salons."
"Do it, Coster," said Cadoudal. "One cannot employ too much publicity and solemnity when God executes justice."
"Forward, D'Argentan, my friend," said Coster; "only some one will have to lend me a jacket."
Cadoudal made a sign, and each of the leaders pulled off his own to offer it to Coster.
"If the execution takes place," he asked, "where will it be?"
"Faith!" said Cadoudal, "three hundred paces from here, at the top of the hill just in front of me."
"That is all I want to know," said Coster de Saint-Victor. And, calling to the postilion, he added: "My friend, as you may take it into your head to object to what I am going to tell you to do, I want to tell you beforehand that all objections will be useless. Your horses are rested and they have eaten; you are rested and you have eaten. You will put the horses to the carriage; and as you cannot return to La Guerche, because the road is obstructed, you will take me to Vitré, to Monsieur Borel, the printer. If you agree to it, you shall have two crowns of six livres each—not assignats, but crowns. If you refuse, one of these lads here will take your place, and will naturally receive the two crowns instead of you."
The postilion took no time for reflection.
"I will go," said he.