The authority enjoyed by Colonel Plouernel, the wisdom of his orders, the confidence of the volunteers in his bravery and military skill once more carried the day over the seething impatience of his captains, although Pastor Feron looked displeased with a manoeuvre in which he imagined he saw a weakness and dissimulation unworthy of the children of Israel. The officers took their posts, and the column advanced in silence, with its right covered by the ridge of a long hill that completely masked it on the side of the enemy's entrenchment. The road that the column followed crossed a wide field covered with wild roses, their petals heavy with the dew of night, and spreading an aromatic odor far and wide. Colonel Plouernel inhaled with delight the early morning fragrance, and addressing Antonicq, who rode beside him, said:
"Oh, my boy! This sweet perfume, these wild smells, remind me of the moors of Brittany. I draw them in with full lungs."
"Brittany! It is the dream of my life! When I was still a boy my father took us to Vannes, on a pilgrimage to the sacred stones of Karnak. They rise not far from the spot where stood the cradle of our family at the time of Julius Caesar. I being then too young to understand it, my father only gave me a short account of our family history. Since then I have read it from beginning to end. I now have but one uppermost desire, and my father shares it. It is, should God put an end to these disastrous wars, to leave La Rochelle and settle down in Vannes. We may be able to purchase a patch of land on the seashore, near the stones of Karnak."
"Those sacred stones, the surviving witnesses of the voluntary sacrifice of your ancestress Hena, the virgin of the isle of Sen—that old Armorica, the independence of which your ancestor Vortigern defended so valiantly against the son of Charlemagne!"
"You may judge, colonel, what memories are awakened within us by that single word—Brittany."
"Well, my boy, it occurred to me quite recently that your and your father's wishes may easily be realized."
"How?"
"By virtue of his primogeniture, my brother is the sole owner of the vast hereditary domains belonging to our family in Auvergne and in Brittany. But the father of my dear wife Jocelyne, a good and honest Breton who resides in Brittany, owns an estate that lies not far from Karnak, along the seashore. Judging from what your father has told me of your family traditions, the estate is bound to consist, partly at least, of the fields once owned by your ancestor Joel the brenn of the tribe of Karnak. Now, then, if God should grant us peace again, nothing would be easier for me than to obtain from my wife's father either the sale or lease of a portion of those fields, and you could then settle down there with your family."
"Oh, colonel! I should be pleased to owe to you the happiness of living in Brittany, near the cradle of my family, together with father and mother, and my sisters, and Cornelia my sweetheart, who will then be my wife!"
"And yet, strange to say, my boy, your ancestors and mine have hated and fought each other across the ages. I must admit the fact—the law of nature justified the terrible reprisals of the conquered upon their conquerors, in those days of frightful oppression. It required the rude school of the religious wars to join in one common belief the children of Joel the Gaul and of Neroweg the Frank, as your father puts it. That first step in Evangelical fraternity marks an immense progress. Thus will traditional hatreds cool down little by little, and race antagonisms will be wiped out, as they have been wiped out between our two families, once such bitter enemies—"