brave veteran
had made a sacrifice, the full merit of which may be difficult to
appreciate. His queue and his moustache were cut off, and his hair had
a sprinkling of powder. He had changed his uniform for a goatskin, wore
hobnailed shoes, a belt full of pistols, and carried a heavy carbine.
In this costume he was reviewing about two hundred of the natives of
Fougeres, all in the same kind of dress, which was fitted to deceive the
eye of the most practised Chouan. The warlike spirit of the little town
and the Breton character were fully displayed in this scene, which
was not at all uncommon. Here and there a few mothers and sisters
were bringing to their sons and brothers gourds filled with brandy, or
forgotten pistols. Several old men were examining into the number and
condition of the cartridges of these young national guards dressed in
the guise of Chouans, whose gaiety was more in keeping with a hunting
expedition than the dangerous duty they were undertaking. To them, such
encounters with Chouannerie, where the Breton of the town fought the
Breton of the country district, had taken the place of the old chivalric
tournaments. This patriotic enthusiasm may possibly have been connected
with certain purchases of the "national domain." Still, the benefits
of the Revolution which were better understood and appreciated in the
towns, party spirit, and a certain national delight in war, had a great
deal to do with their ardor.

Hulot, much gratified, was going through the ranks and getting
information from Gudin, on whom he was now bestowing the confidence and
good-will he had formerly shown to Merle and Gerard. A number of the
inhabitants stood about watching the preparations, and comparing the
conduct of their tumultuous contingent with the regulars of Hulot's
brigade. Motionless and silent the Blues were awaiting, under control of
their officers, the orders of the commandant, whose figure they followed
with their eyes as he passed from rank to rank of the contingent. When
Corentin came near the old warrior he could not help smiling at the
change which had taken place in him. He looked like a portrait that has
little or no resemblance to the original.

"What's all this?" asked Corentin.

"Come with us under fire, and you'll find out," replied Hulot.

"Oh! I'm not a Fougeres man," said Corentin.

"Easy to see that, citizen," retorted Gudin.

A few contemptuous laughs came from the nearest ranks.

"Do you think," s