With universal acclamation the assembly received these stirring words, which so powerfully awakened new hope in their despondent hearts.
"Oh," cried Jean Peuquoy, "now we can fight, and we can conquer."
"Fight, yes; but as for victory, I dare not hope it," rejoined Gabriel, with an air of authority. "I have no desire to make matters appear better than they really are, but only that they should not be made to appear worse. I wished to prove to every one of you, and first of all, to you, Master Jean Peuquoy, who have given utterance to such noble but gloomy words,—I wished to prove to you, in the first place, that the king does not abandon you, and in the second place, that your fall might be glorious, but obstinate resistance must be of the greatest service. You said a moment since, 'Let us offer ourselves as a sacrifice;' and now you say, 'Let us fight.' It is a great step forward. Yes, it is possible, nay, it may be probable that the sixty thousand men who are now besieging your frail ramparts will end by carrying them. But in the first place, do not imagine that the noble struggle you will have maintained will expose you to cruel reprisals. Philibert Emmanuel is a brave soldier, who loves and honors bravery in others, and will never punish you for your valor. And last of all, think that if you can hold out ten or twelve days more, you will perhaps have lost your town, but you will surely have saved your country. A sublime and noble end! Towns, like men, have their patents of nobility; and the mighty deeds that they accomplish are their titles and their ancestors. Your little children, men of St. Quentin, will some day be proud of their fathers. Your walls may be destroyed; but who can ever destroy the glorious memory of this siege? Courage, then, heroic sentinels of a kingdom! Save the king, and save your country. But a moment ago, with heads bowed down, you seemed to have resolved to die, the willing victims of stern necessity. Lift up your heads! If you perish, let it be as willing heroes, and your memory shall never perish! Thus you can heartily join me in the cry: 'Vive la France!' and 'Vive St. Quentin!'"
"Vive la France! Vive St. Quentin! Vive le roi!" burst enthusiastically from a hundred throats.
"And now," said Gabriel, "to the ramparts and to work! and encourage by your example your fellow-citizens, who await you. To-morrow a hundred pairs of arms more, I swear, shall be here to aid you in your work of salvation and of glory."
"To the ramparts!" cried the throng.
And out they rushed, carried away with joy and hope and pride, and inspiring with their words and their enthusiasm those who had not heard the words of the unhoped-for liberator, who had been sent by God and the king to the disheartened town.
Gaspard de Coligny, the worthy and high-minded commander, had listened to Gabriel in silence born of wonder and admiration. When the whole assemblage had dispersed with triumphant shouts, he left the seat he had occupied, went up to the young man, and pressed his hand with an air of amazement.
"Thanks, Monsieur," said he; "you have saved St. Quentin and myself from disgrace, and it may be France and the king from destruction."
"Alas! I have done nothing as yet, Monsieur l'Amiral," said Gabriel. "I must now go back to Vaulpergues; and God alone can enable me to go out as I came in, and to introduce the hundred men I have promised into the town. It is God and not I to whom thanks must be rendered, ten days from now."