“I cannot say exactly,” said he, “in many places at once I hope. In St. Florent, they say, not a man will join; in Clisson and Torfou they begin on Monday. Charles, and I, and Adolphe will be in Clisson. Father Jerome has the whole lists; he says that in St. Laud’s, in Echanbroignes, and Clisson, they are ready, to a man, to oppose the troops: he will go with me to Clisson on Sunday afternoon; on Monday, with God’s will, we will be in the thick of it.”
“And will Father Jerome be there, among the soldiers?” said Marie.
“Why not,” said Henri, “will the peasants fight worse when they see their priest before them?”
“And if he should fall?”
“He will fail in the service of his God and his King; Father Jerome will be here himself tomorrow.”
“The Curé of St Laud’s,” said Agatha, “is not the man to sit idle, when good work is to be done, but, oh! what awful times are these, when the priests themselves have to go out to fight for their altars and their crucifix.”
“I will return home with you, M Larochejaquelin, when you go to Clisson,” said Marie.
“And leave Agatha alone?” said Henri
“Don’t mind me, Henri,” said Agatha, “I shall be well here. Marie cannot leave Madame de Lescure alone, when her husband is, away and in such danger.”
“You will soon have company here enough,” said Henri. “De Lescure, and I, and Adolphe, and Heaven knows whom besides. Charette will be in arms, and d’Autachamps, the Prince de Talmont, and M. Bonchamps. At present their business is at a distance from us; but we shall probably be all brought together sooner or later, and they will all be welcome at Durbellière.”