g　picked　up　several　five…franc　pieces　trampled　in　the　mud　and　overlooked　by　the　victors。　His　mother　was　sitting　on　a　stool　beside　the　fire；　employed　in　spinning　flax。　He　made　a　negative　sign　to　her；　and　then；　ten　o'clock　having　struck　from　the　tower　of　Saint…Leonard；　he　went　to　bed；　muttering　a　prayer　to　the　holy　Virgin　of　Auray。　At　dawn；　Barbette；　who　had　not　closed　her　eyes；　gave　a　cry　of　joy；　as　she　heard　in　the　distance　a　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　again　departed。　Later；　on　the　following　morning；　he　returned；　having　carefully　fulfilled　all　the　commissions　entrusted　to　him　by　the　Gars。　Finding　that　Marche…a…Terre　and　Pille…Miche　had　not　appeared　at　the　cottage；　he　relieved　the　apprehensions　of　his　wife；　who　went　off；　reassured；　to　the　rocks　of　Saint…Sulpice；　where　she　had　collected　the　night　before　several　piles　of　fagots；　now　covered　with　hoarfrost。　The　boy　went　with　her；　carrying　fire　in　a　broken　wooden　shoe。
  Hardly　had　his　wife　and　son　passed　out　of　sight　behind　the　shed　when　Galope…Chopine　heard　the　noise　of　men　jumping　the　successive　barriers；　and　he　could　dimly　see；　through　the　fog　which　was　growing　thicker；　the　forms　of　two　men　like　moving　shadows。
  〃It　is　Marche…a…Terre　and　Pille…Miche；〃　he　said；　mentally；　then　he　shuddered。　The　two　Chouans　entered　the　courtyard　and　showed　their　gloomy　faces　under　the　broad…brimmed　hats　which　made　them　look　like　the　figures　which　engravers　introduce　into　their　landscapes。
  〃Good…morning；　Galope…Chopine；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre；　gravely。
  〃Good…morning；　Monsieur　Marche…a…Terre；〃　replied　the　other；　humbly。　〃Will　you　come　in　and　drink　a　drop？　I've　some　cold　buckwheat　cake　and　fresh…made　butter。〃
  〃That's　not　to　be　refused；　cousin；〃　said　Pille…Miche。
  The　two　Chouans　entered　the　cottage。　So　far　there　was　nothing　alarming　for　the　master　of　the　house；　who　hastened　to　fill　three　beakers　from　his　huge　cask　of　cider；　while　Marche…a…Terre　and　Pille…Miche；　sitting　on　the　polished　benches　on　each　side　of　the　long　table；　cut　the　cake　and　spread　it　with　the　rich　yellow　butter　from　which　the　milk　spurted　as　the　knife　smoothed　it。　Galope…Chopine　placed　the　beakers　full　of　frothing　cider　before　his　guests；　and　the　three　Chouans　began　to　eat；　but　from　time　to　time　the　master　of　the　house　cast　side…long　glances　at　Marche…a…Terre　as　he　drank　his　cider。
  〃Lend　me　your　snuff…box；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre　to　Pille…Miche。
  Having　shaken　several　pinches　into　the　palm　of　his　hand　the　Breton　inhaled　the　tobacco　like　a　man　who　is　making　ready　for　serious　business。
  〃It　is　cold；〃　said　Pille…Miche；　rising　to　shut　the　upper　half　of　the　door。
  The　daylight；　already　dim　with　fog；　now　entered　only　through　the　little　window；　and　feebly　lighted　the　room　and　the　two　seats；　the　fire；　however；　gave　out　a　ruddy　glow。　Galope…Chopine　refilled　the　beakers；　but　his　guests　refused　to　drink　again；　and　throwing　aside　their　large　hats　looked　at　him　solemnly。　Their　gestures　and　the　look　they　gave　him　terrified　Galope…Chopine；　who　fancied　he　saw　blood　in　the　red　woollen　caps　they　wore。
  〃Fetch　your　axe；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre。
  〃But；　Monsieur　Marche…a…Terre；　what　do　you　want　it　for？〃
  〃Come；　cousin；　you　know　very　well；〃　said　Pille…Miche；　pocketing　his　snuff…box　which　Marche…a…Terre　returned　to　him；　〃you　are　condemned。〃
  The　two　Chouans　rose　together　and　took　their　guns。
  〃Monsieur　Marche…a…Terre；　I　never　said　one　word　about　the　Gars〃
  〃I　told　you　to　fetch　your　axe；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre。
  The　hapless　man　knocked　against　the　wooden　bedstead　of　his　son；　and　several　five…franc　pieces　rolled　on　the　floor。　Pille…Miche　picked　them　up。
  〃Ho！　ho！　the　Blues　paid　you　in　new　money；〃　cried　Marche…a…Terre。
  〃As　true　as　that's　the　image　of　Saint…Labre；〃　said　Galope…Chopine；　〃I　have　told　nothing。　Barbette　mistook　the　Fougeres　men　for　the　gars　of　Saint…Georges；　and　that's　the　whole　of　it。〃
  〃Why　do　you　tell　things　to　your　wife？〃　said　Marche…a…Terre；　roughly。
  〃Besides；　cousin；　we　don't　want　excuses；　we　want　your　axe。　You　are　condemned。〃
  At　a　sign　from　his　companion；　Pille…Miche　helped　Marche…a…Terre　to　seize　the　victim。　Finding　himself　in　their　grasp　Galope…Chopine　lost　all　power　and　fell　on　his　knees　holding　up　his　hands　to　his　slayers　in　desperation。
  〃My　friends；　my　good　friends；　my　cousin；〃　he　said；　〃what　will　become　of　my　little　boy？〃
  〃I　will　take　charge　of　him；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre。
  〃My　good　comrades；〃　cried　the　victim；　turning　livid。　〃I　am　not　fit　to　die。　Don't　make　me　go　without　confession。　You　have　the　right　to　take　my　life；　but　you've　no　right　to　make　me　lose　a　blessed　eternity。〃
  〃That　is　true；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre；　addressing　Pille…Miche。
  The　two　Chouans　waited　a　moment　in　much　uncertainty；　unable　to　decide　this　case　of　conscience。　Galope…Chopine　listened　to　the　rustling　of　the　wind　as　though　he　still　had　hope。　Suddenly　Pille…Miche　took　him　by　the　arm　into　a　corner　of　the　hut。
  〃Confess　your　sins　to　me；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　will　tell　them　to　a　priest　of　the　true　Church；　and　if　there　is　any　penance　to　do　I　will　do　it　for　you。〃
  Galope…Chopine　obtained　some　respite　by　the　way　in　which　he　confessed　his　sins；　but　in　spite　of　their　number　and　the　circumstances　of　each　crime；　he　came　finally　to　the　end　of　them。
  〃Cousin；〃　he　said；　imploringly；　〃since　I　am　speaking　to　you　as　I　would　to　my　confessor；　I　do　assure　you；　by　the　holy　name　of　God；　that　I　have　nothing　to　reproach　myself　with　except　for　having；　now　and　then；　buttered　my　bread　on　both　sides；　and　I　call　on　Saint…Labre；　who　is　there　over　the　chimney…piece；　to　witness　that　I　have　never　said　one　word　about　the　Gars。　No；　my　good　friends；　I　have　not　betrayed　him。〃
  〃Very　good；　that　will　do；　cousin；　you　can　explain　all　that　to　God　in　course　of　time。〃
  〃But　let　me　say　good…bye　to　Barbette。〃
  〃Come；〃　said　Marche…a…Terre；　〃if　you　don't　want　us　to　think　you　worse　than　you　are；　behave　like　a　Breton　and　be　done　with　it。〃
  The　two　Chouans　seized　him　again　and　threw　him　on　the　bench　where　he　gave　no　other　sign　of　resistance　than　the　instinctive　and　convulsive　motions　of　an　animal；　uttering　a　few　smothered　groans；　which　ceased　when　the　axe　fell。　The　head　was　off　at　the　first　blow。　Marche…a…Terre　took　it　by　the　hair；　left　the　room；　sought　and　found　a　large　nail　in　the　rough　casing　of　the　door；　and　wound　the　hair　about　it；　leaving　the　bloody　head；　the　eyes　of　which　he　did　not　even　close；　to　hang　there。
  The　two　Chouans　then　washed　their　hands；　without　the　least　haste；　in　a　pot　full　of　water；　picked　up　their　hats　and　guns；　and　jumped　the　gate；　whistling　the　〃Ballad　of　the　Captain。〃　Pille…Miche　began　to　sing　in　a　hoarse　voice　as　he　reached　the　field　the　last　verses　of　that　rustic　song；　their　melody　floating　on　the　breeze：
  〃At　the　first　town　　　Her　lover　dressed　her　　　All　in　white　satin；
  〃At　the　next　town　　　Her　lover　dressed　her　　　In　gold　and　silver。