sound she knew well of hobnailed shoes, and soon after Galope-Chopine's
scowling face presented itself.

"Thanks to Saint-Labre," he said, "to whom I owe a candle, the Gars is
safe. Don't forget that we now owe three candles to the saint."

He seized a beaker of cider and emptied it at a draught without drawing
breath. When his wife had served his soup and taken his gun and he
himself was seated on the wooden bench, he said, looking at the fire: "I
can't make out how the Blues got here. The fighting was at Florigny. Who
the devil could have told them that the Gars was in our house; no one
knew it but he and the handsome garce and we--"

Barbette turned white.

"They made me believe they were the gars of Saint-Georges," she said,
trembling, "it was I who told them the Gars was here."

Galope-Chopine turned pale himself and dropped his porringer on the
table.

"I sent the boy to warn you," said Barbette, frightened, "didn't you
meet him?"

The Chouan rose and struck his wife so violently that she dropped, pale
as death, upon the bed.

"You cursed woman," he said, "you have killed me!" Then seized with
remorse, he took her in his arms. "Barbette!" he cried, "Barbette!--Holy
Virgin, my hand was too heavy!"

"Do you think," she said, opening her eyes, "that Marche-a-Terre will
hear of it?"

"The Gars will certainly inquire who betrayed him."

"Will he tell it to Marche-a-Terre?"

"Marche-a-Terre and Pille-Miche were both at Florigny."

Barbette breathed a little easier.

"If they touch a hair of your head," she cried, "I'll rinse their
glasses with vinegar."

"Ah! I can't eat," said Galope-Chopine, anxiously.

His wife set another pitcher full of cider before him, but he paid no
heed to it. Two big tears rolled from the woman's eyes and moistened the
deep furrows of her withered face.

"Listen to me, wife; to-morrow morning you must gather fagots on the
rocks of Saint-Sulpice, to the right and Saint-Leonard and set fire to
them. That is a signal agreed upon between the Gars and the old rector
of Saint-Georges who is to come and say mass for him."

"Is the Gars going to Fougeres?"

"Yes, to see his handsome garce. I have been sent here and there all
day about it. I think he is going to marry her and carry her off; for he
told me to hire horses and have them ready on the road to Saint-Malo."

Thereupon Galope-Chopine, who was tired out, went to bed for an hour or
two, at the end of which time he agai