"Madam, it is more prudent. I saw coming up from down below a band of men—whose frightful faces—"
"Go to, Gildas, you are losing your head! Open the door."
"But madam—"
"Do as I tell you. Listen, there is someone trying to come in. Open the door."
"It is that devil of a girl with her letter," thought Gildas to himself, more dead than alive. "Oh, why did I leave my quiet little village of Auray!"
And he opened the door with his heart thumping against his ribs. Instead, however, of seeing before him the young girl with her letter, he stood face to face with Monsieur Lebrenn and his son.
CHAPTER VIII.
ON THE EVE OF BATTLE.
Madam Lebrenn was agreeably surprised at seeing her son, whom she did not expect, thinking he was at the College. Velleda tenderly embraced her brother, while the merchant himself pressed the hand of his wife.
The resolute carriage of Sacrovir Lebrenn suggested the thought that he was worthy of bearing the glorious name of the hero of ancient Gaul, one of the greatest patriots of the land recorded in history.
Marik Lebrenn's son was a strapping lad of slightly over nineteen years. He had an open, kind and bold countenance. A sprouting beard shaded his lip and chin. His full cheeks were rosy, and looked bright with animation. He very much resembled his father.