“He might marry a wife, and have a house full of children, for all that; that’s the difference between being a saint and a priest; there’s no harm in being in love with a saint, and I am very much in love with Cathelineau.”
“Why, you little ninny, you never saw him,” said Chapean.
“No matter,” said Annot; “ninny, or no ninny, I’ll go where I’m like to see him; and I’m sure I’ll never bear the sight of another man afterwards; the dear, good, sweet Cathelineau, with his curly hair, and fine whiskers, and black bright eyes; he’s better than all the noblemen: I declare I dreamed of him these last two nights.”
Chapeau left the side of his mistress, muttering something about stupid foolish chits of girls, and continued his description of M. d’Elbée to the men.
“Indeed he is a very great general. I don’t know very well where he came from, but I believe somewhere down in the Marais, from his being such a friend of M. Charette; but he has been fighting against the republicans this long time, even before Cathelineau began, I believe, though I don’t exactly know where. I know he was made a prisoner in Paris, and nearly killed there by some of those bloody-minded rebels; then he escaped, and he was at the siege of Machecoult, and got honourably wounded, and was left for dead: and then he was at Thouars—no, not at Thouars; we heard he was coming, but he didn’t come; but he was at Fontenay, and that’s where I first saw him. M. Bonchamps brought him in and introduced him to M. de Lescure, and our M. Larochejaquelin, and I was astonished to see how much they made of him, for he was dressed just as he is now, and had no sword or anything. Well, as soon as he came in they all went to work talking, and settling how Fontenay was to be attacked, for though its a little place, and not walled and fortified like Saumur, we had a deal of trouble with it; but before a word was spoken, M. d’Elbée stood up and said, ‘Brethren,’ said he, ‘let us ask the assistance of our Saviour:’ so down they went on their knees, and he said an awful long prayer, for all the world like a priest. And then again before we fired a shot, he bade all the soldiers kneel down, and down we went, the republicans firing at us all the time. The soldiers call him Old Providence, for they say he talks a deal about Providence when he is fighting.”
“You may be sure that’s what makes Father Jerome so fond of him,” said Jean. “I knew he was a good man.”
“And he was a desperate fellow to fight afterwards,” continued Chapeau. “But he walked into the thick of the fighting just as he is now.”
“But he had a sword, or a gun, or a spear?” said Jean.
“Neither the one or the other; he was just as he is this minute, giving orders, and directing some of the men there who knew him well. Presently, he said to a young gentleman who was near him: ‘Lend me that sword a moment, will you?’ and he took it out of his hands, and made a rush through the gate of Fontenay, and I saw no more of him that day.”
“Why did you not rush after him, then, M. Chapeau?”