“It is impossible to stop them,” said Cathelineau, still standing on the waggon, and speaking to de Lescure, whom he had outran. “All La Vendée could not stop them; but we may head them, M. de Lescure, and lead them on; we must attack the camp tonight.”
“Our loss will be terrible if we do,” said de Lescure.
“It will, it will be terrible, and we shall be repulsed; but that will be better than letting them rush into positive destruction. In an hour’s time they will be between the camp, the town, and the heights of Bournan, and nothing then could save them.”
“Let us go, then,” said de Lescure; “but will you not send to d’Elbée?”
“Yes; but do not desire him to follow us. In two hours time he will have enough to do to cover our retreat.”
“We shall, at any rate, have the darkness in our favour,” said de Lescure.
“We shall; but we have two dreadful hours of light before that time comes: here are our horses—let us mount; there is nothing for us now but a hard ride, a good drubbing—and then, the best face we can put upon it tomorrow.”
Orders were then given to Peter Berrier to make the best of his way across to M. d’Elbée, and to explain to him what had occurred, and bid him keep his men in reserve under arms, and as near to the waggons as he could. “And be sure,” said Catheineau, “be sure, Peter, to make him understand, that he is at once to leave the river and come across to the road, to keep his men, you know, immediately close to the waggons.”
“I understand,” said Peter, “I understand,” and he at once started off on his important errand.
“It is a bad messenger, I fear,” said Cathelineau; “but we have no better; indeed we are lucky even to find him.”