he, rendered desperate by her danger, seized his gun, jumped
quickly into the room, and threatened him. The count broke into a peal
of laughter when he caught sight of her, for, in order to hide herself,
Marie had taken off her broad-brimmed Chouan hat, and her hair was
escaping, in heavy curls, from the lace scarf which she had worn on
leaving home.

"Don't laugh, monsieur le comte; you are my prisoner. If you make the
least movement, you shall know what an offended woman is capable of
doing."

As the count and Marie stood looking at each other with differing
emotions, confused voices were heard without among the rocks, calling
out, "Save the Gars! spread out, spread out, save the Gars!"

Barbette's voice, calling to her boy, was heard above the tumult with
very different sensations by the two enemies, to whom Barbette was
really speaking instead of to her son.

"Don't you see the Blues?" she cried sharply. "Come here, you little
scamp, or I shall be after you. Do you want to be shot? Come, hide,
quick!"

While these things took place rapidly a Blue jumped into the marshy
courtyard.

"Beau-Pied!" exclaimed Mademoiselle de Verneuil.

Beau-Pied, hearing her voice, rushed into the cottage, and aimed at the
count.

"Aristocrat!" he cried, "don't stir, or I'll demolish you in a wink,
like the Bastille."

"Monsieur Beau-Pied," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, in a persuasive
voice, "you will be answerable to me for this prisoner. Do as you like
with him now, but you must return him to me safe and sound at Fougeres."

"Enough, madame!"

"Is the road to Fougeres clear?"

"Yes, it's safe enough--unless the Chouans come to life."

Mademoiselle de Verneuil picked up the count's gun gaily, and smiled
satirically as she said to her prisoner, "Adieu, monsieur le comte, au
revoir!"

Then she darted down the path, having replaced the broad hat upon her
head.

"I have learned too late," said the count, "not to joke about the virtue
of a woman who has none."

"Aristocrat!" cried Beau-Pied, sternly, "if you don't want me to send
you to your _ci-devant_ paradise, you will not say a word against that
beautiful lady."

Mademoiselle de Verneuil returned to Fougeres by the paths which connect
the rocks of Saint-Sulpice with the Nid-aux-Crocs. When she reached the
latter height and had threaded the winding way cut in its rough granite,
she stopped to admire the pretty valley of the Nancon, lately so
turbulent and now so