ised to
aid us in it. Would it be loyal to abandon us now for a repulse? No, no,
my dear pupil; you must have a little more connection in your ideas if
you mix in a conspiracy."

"It is just because I have connection in my ideas," replied D'Harmental,
"that this time, as at first, before undertaking anything new, I wish to
know what it is. I offered myself to be the arm, it is true; but, before
striking, the arm must know what the head has decided. I risk my
liberty. I risk my life. I risk something perhaps dearer to me still. I
will risk all this in my own manner, with my eyes open, and not closed.
Tell me first what I am to do in Brittany, and then perhaps I will go
there."

"Your orders are that you should go to Rennes. There you will unseal
this letter, and find your instructions."

"My orders! my instructions!"

"Are not these the terms which a general uses to his officers? And are
they in the habit of disputing the commands they receive?"

"Not when they are in the service; but you know I am in it no longer."

"It is true. I forgot to tell you that you had re-entered it."----"I!"

"Yes, you. I have your brevet in my pocket." And Brigaud drew from his
pocket a parchment, which he presented to D'Harmental, who unfolded it
slowly, questioning Brigaud with his looks.

"A brevet!" cried the chevalier; "a brevet as colonel in one of the four
regiments of carabineers! Whence comes this brevet?"

"Look at the signature."

"Louis-Auguste, Duc de Maine!"

"Well, what is there astonishing in that? As grand master of artillery,
he has the nomination of twelve regiments. He gives you one to replace
that which was taken from you, and, as your general, he sends you on a
mission. Is it customary for soldiers in such a case to refuse the honor
their chief does them in thinking of them? I am a churchman, and do not
know."

"No, no, my dear abbe. It is, on the contrary, the duty of every officer
of the king to obey his chief."

"Besides which," replied Brigaud, negligently, "in case the conspiracy
failed, you would only have obeyed orders, and might throw the whole
responsibility of your actions on another."

"Abbe!" cried D'Harmental, a second time.

"Well, if you do not go, I shall make you feel the spur."

"Yes, I am going. Excuse me, but there are some moments when I am half
mad. I am now at the orders of Monsieur de Maine, or, rather, at those
of Madame. May I not see her before I go, to fall at her feet, an