And hope, indeed, had obstacles to surmount. Where, for instance, were the large bodies of Chouans under Tinténiac and another, who had been despatched several days ago into the interior for the purpose of attacking Ste. Barbe simultaneously from the rear? To anyone who knew Tinténiac as La Vireville did, their non-appearance was very strange. They might yet come up in time. If they did not, then d'Hervilly's refusal to postpone the attack for twenty-four hours in order to allow of the landing of Sombreuil's division—still out there in their transports in the bay—was deprived of its only justification.
They marched on. Far away the fires of the Republican bivouacs were visible through the darkness, at the foot of the rising ground of Ste. Barbe. . . .
The scene shifted. It was dawn now. They were still advancing, having passed the Republican outposts with scarcely a struggle, for the enemy, acting no doubt on instructions, had abandoned them and had fallen back on the strong entrenched camp. In that uncompromising light of dawn La Vireville could see how strong they were—a long line of entrenchments with two redoubts and several batteries, bristling with four-pounders, and well provided with heavy guns and mortars. And he knew instinctively that his Chouans were casting sidelong glances at those sinister black mouths. It was not the kind of thing that they liked or were accustomed to.
But he also perceived, with a leap of the heart, that there was a much better thing to be done than attacking these in front. The tide was out, and for that reason they had only to go on as they were going, and they could turn the batteries and take them in the rear. If only d'Hervilly would send orders to that end! For d'Hervilly was away on the left with his own regiment, while Puisaye, strangely enough, was with the rearguard.
He was just thinking of communicating his hopes to St. Four when orders to halt came down from the head of the combined column, where the officer in command, a grand seigneur, the Duc de Lévis, could be seen on his horse. They halted.
La Vireville turned with a frown to St. Four, and read his own uneasiness in his enemy's eyes. He nodded, and the officer of Hector, saluting, disappeared.
"Are we going to attack now, Monsieur Augustin?" whispered Grain d'Orge, coming up, carrying his musket in a fashion peculiar to himself. "The sooner the better."
La Vireville knew that as well as he. He was quite aware that you must keep the Chouan on the move, or watching from behind a hedge—but not in the open, doing nothing, where his thoughts get too much for him.
"I expect so," he returned. "Go back to your place."