And in another moment the soldier stood in the doorway, grizzled, stiff, authoritative, in his blue, cut-away coat with its red epaulettes and cuffs and white facings, his white breeches, gaiters, and bandoliers. “Be quiet, old cackler!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I have eyes and a tongue of my own, thank heaven. Come up, you two; they are here right enough. Now, my men, let’s have some account of you. . . .”
Neither Louis nor M. des Graves responded. Two more grenadiers posted themselves in the doorway, and as their muskets grounded simultaneously on the floor the invader came over to the bed.
“Come, young man. . . .”
Why had Madame Gloannec said that he could only speak Breton, when he knew not a word of it? Sick at heart, Louis summoned his straying wits, and there came haltingly to his tongue something which he had often heard Madame Gloannec repeat in that language. He had not an idea what it was, and hoped that the soldier was equally ignorant. Afterwards he remembered how as the sergeant stood over him he had fixed his eyes on the little transverse strips of gold braid above his cuff, lest he should look at M. des Graves.
The grenadier shrugged his shoulders. “No use your telling me any of that gibberish! However, there seems no humbug about your condition, my friend; and I own I do not see how you could have escaped from Nantes the day before yesterday. Besides, he was older,” he added, looking at a paper in his hand.
On M. des Graves he scarcely bestowed a glance. Evidently his prey was not of his type. He only muttered to himself as he turned on his heel: “Sacré nom, how these old Bretons resemble priests!” Two minutes later he and his men had left the house.
“O my child, my child, how the Blessed Virgin protected you!” said Madame Gloannec a little later, clasping her hands over Louis. “Do you know what you were saying . . . the Hail Mary!”
“I did not know it,” murmured the Vicomte, looking a good deal whiter than his coarse sheets.
“No, but she did. And . . . mon Dieu, was that there all the time, Monsieur l’Abbé? She must also have hidden that from the eyes of the Blues.” For the breviary was lying open at the foot of the bed.