“Why impossible, Charles? Why is Parthenay, which is not better fortified than Clisson, be more unassailable than Saumur, where everything appeared to be against us?”
“We were all together then, and now we are scattered. I’ll tell you what, Henri,” he continued, after walking on silent for a few steps. “I’ll tell you what we must do: we must leave this district altogether; we must leave it to be ravaged by fire and sword; we must leave it to Westerman, to wreak his vengeance on it, and go to Chatillon, taking with us every armed man that will follow us. We cannot stand an invasion here in the south.”
“Heavens, Charles! what do you mean? Will you not stay to protect the poor wretches who are so ready to fight for us?”
“We can protect no one by staying here. We cannot hope to contend single-handed with such an army as that which was but just now advancing to Bressuire. We can have given them a check, but you know we cannot repeat the effort of this evening. D’Elbée and Stofflet are at Chatillon; your own followers are all in that vicinity. When there, we can communicate with Bonchamps and Charette. We must go to Chatillon.”
“And your wife, Charles, and Marie! you will not leave them in the château?”
“If your father and Agatha will receive them, they shall go to Durbellière.”
“There you are right,” said Henri. “Whatever may be the danger, let us have them together; we shall then at any rate be able to feel that we know the point which is to be defended most closely.”
“We will start tomorrow, Henri; tomorrow evening. May God grant that that may be time enough. Westerman cannot collect his men so as to force a march as far as Clisson tomorrow; but before a week is over, I know that the château will be a ruin.”
“Will you leave the furniture?” said Henri.
“Yes,” answered de Lescure; “furniture, horses, cattle, corn—everything but my wife and child. Let everything go: am I not giving it to my King?”