Also several days had passed since Rosette had ventured down to the nearest friendly farm to seek for food, and her little store of provisions was nearly finished.
"You and I must eat, Gegi. Stay with the sheep, little one, while I go and see if I can reach some house in safety." And, the yellow mongrel offering no objection, Rosette started.
She was not the only person in La Vendée who lacked food. Thousands of loyal peasants starved, and the republican soldiers themselves were not too plentifully supplied. Certainly they grumbled bitterly sometimes, as did that detachment of them who sheltered themselves from the keen wind under the thick hedge that divided the rough road leading to La Plastière from the fields.
"Bah! we live like pigs in these days!" growled one of the men.
"It is nothing," said another. "Think what we shall get at La Plastière! The village has a few fat farmers, who have escaped pillaging so far by the love they bore, as they said, to the good republic. But that is ended: once we have caught this rascal Marigny in their midst, we can swear they are not good republicans."
"But," objected the first speaker, "they may say they knew nothing of this Marigny hiding in the château!"
"They may say so—but we need not believe them!" returned his companion.
"Ah, bah! I would believe or not believe anything, so long as it brought us a good meal! How long before we reach this village, comrade?"
"Till nightfall. We would not have Marigny watch our coming. This time we will make sure of the scoundrel."
Rosette, standing hidden behind the hedge, clenched her hands tightly at the word. She would have given much to have flung it back at the man, but prudence suggested it would be better to be discreet and help Marigny. She turned and ran along under the hedge, and away back to where she had left her little flock, her bare feet falling noiselessly on the damp ground.