“But his sons are brave fellows,” said the little Chevalier, “and dashed into the water among the very first. Michael Stein can’t but be proud that his two sons should be both red scarfs: if so, he must be a republican.”
“He is no republican, Chevalier,” said Chapeau, “that’s quite certain, nor yet any of the family; but he is a very black man, and when once angered, not easy to be smoothed down again; and if M. Henri will allow Jean and Peter to come on to Durbellière, I can, perhaps, manage to go back with them on Sunday, and Michael Stein will mind me more than he will them: I can knock into his thick head better than they can do, the high honour which has befallen the lads, in their chancing to have been among the red scarfs.”
“Well, Chapeau, let them come,” said Henri. “No man that followed me gallantly into Saumur, shall be refused admittance when he wishes to follow me into Durbellière.”
“We were cool enough, weren’t we, Henri, when we marched into the town?” said the Chevalier.
“We’ll have a more comfortable reception at the old château,” said Henri; “at any rate, we’ll have no more cold water. I must say, Arthur, I thought the water of that moat had a peculiarly nasty taste.”
They were not long in reaching the château, and Henri soon found himself in his sister’s arms. A confused account, first of the utter defeat of the Vendeans at Varin, and then of their complete victory at Saumur, had reached Durbellière; and though the former account had made them as miserable, as the latter had made them happy, neither one nor the other was entirely believed. De Lescure had sent an express to Clisson immediately after the taking of the town, and Madame de Lescure had sent from Clisson to Durbellière; but still it was delightful to have the good news corroborated by the conquerors themselves, and Agatha was supremely happy.
“My own dear, darling Henri,” she said, clinging round his neck, “my own brave, gallant brother, and were you not wounded at all—are you sure you are not wounded?”
“Not a touch, not a scratch, Agatha, as deep as you might give me with your bodkin.”
“Thank God! I thank Him with all my heart and soul: and I know you were the first everywhere. Charles wrote but a word or too to Victorine, but he said you were the very first to set your foot in Saumur.”
“A mere accident, Agatha; while Charles had all the fighting—the real hard, up hill, hand to ‘hand work—I and a few others walked into Saumur, or rather we swam in, and took possession of the town. The Chevalier here was beside me, and was over the breach as soon as I was.”