〃At　the　first　town　　　Her　lover　dressed　her　　　All　in　white　satin；
  〃At　the　next　town　　　Her　lover　dressed　her　　　In　gold　and　silver。
  〃So　beautiful　was　she　　　They　gave　her　veils　　　To　wear　in　the　regiment。〃
  The　tune　became　gradually　indistinguishable　as　the　Chouans　got　further　away；　but　the　silence　of　the　country　was　so　great　that　several　of　the　notes　reached　Barbette's　ear　as　she　neared　home；　holding　her　boy　by　the　hand。　A　peasant…woman　never　listens　coldly　to　that　song；　so　popular　is　it　in　the　West　of　France；　and　Barbette　began；　unconsciously；　to　sing　the　first　verses：
  〃Come；　let　us　go；　my　girl；　　　Let　us　go　to　the　war；　　　Let　us　go；　it　is　time。
  〃Brave　captain；　　　Let　it　not　trouble　you；　　　But　my　daughter　is　not　for　you。
  〃You　shall　not　have　her　on　earth；　　　You　shall　not　have　her　at　sea；　　　Unless　by　treachery。
  〃The　father　took　his　daughter；　　　He　unclothed　her　　　And　flung　her　out　to　sea。
  〃The　captain；　wiser　still；　　　Into　the　waves　he　jumped　　　And　to　the　shore　he　brought　her。
  〃Come；　let　us　go；　my　girl；　　　Let　us　go　to　the　war；　　　Let　us　go；　it　is　time。
  〃At　the　first　town　　　Her　lover　dressed　her；〃　　　Etc。；　etc。
  As　Barbette　reached　this　verse　of　the　song；　where　Pille…Miche　had　begun　it；　she　was　entering　the　courtyard　of　her　home；　her　tongue　suddenly　stiffened；　she　stood　still；　and　a　great　cry；　quickly　repressed；　came　from　her　gaping　lips。
  〃What　is　it；　mother？〃　said　the　child。
  〃Walk　alone；〃　she　cried；　pulling　her　hand　away　and　pushing　him　roughly；　〃you　have　neither　father　nor　mother。〃
  The　child；　who　was　rubbing　his　shoulder　and　weeping；　suddenly　caught　sight　of　the　thing　on　the　nail；　his　childlike　face　kept　the　nervous　convulsion　his　crying　had　caused；　but　he　was　silent。　He　opened　his　eyes　wide；　and　gazed　at　the　head　of　his　father　with　a　stupid　look　which　betrayed　no　emotion；　then　his　face；　brutalized　by　ignorance；　showed　savage　curiosity。　Barbette　again　took　his　hand；　grasped　it　violently；　and　dragged　him　into　the　house。　When　Pille…Miche　and　Marche…a…Terre　threw　their　victim　on　the　bench　one　of　his　shoes；　dropping　off；　fell　on　the　floor　beneath　his　neck　and　was　afterward　filled　with　blood。　It　was　the　first　thing　that　met　the　widow's　eye。
  〃Take　off　your　shoe；〃　said　the　mother　to　her　son。　〃Put　your　foot　in　that。　Good。　Remember；〃　she　cried；　in　a　solemn　voice；　〃your　father's　shoe；　never　put　on　your　own　without　remembering　how　the　Chouans　filled　it　with　his　blood；　and　/kill　the　Chouans/！〃
  She　swayed　her　head　with　so　convulsive　an　action　that　the　meshes　of　her　black　hair　fell　upon　her　neck　and　gave　a　sinister　expression　to　her　face。
  〃I　call　Saint…Labre　to　witness；〃　she　said；　〃that　I　vow　you　to　the　Blues。　You　shall　be　a　soldier　to　avenge　your　father。　Kill；　kill　the　/Chouans/；　and　do　as　I　do。　Ha！　they've　taken　the　head　of　my　man；　and　I　am　going　to　give　that　of　the　Gars　to　the　Blues。〃
  She　sprang　at　a　bound　on　the　bed；　seized　a　little　bag　of　money　from　a　hiding…place；　took　the　hand　of　the　astonished　little　boy；　and　dragged　him　after　her　without　giving　him　time　to　put　on　his　shoe；　and　was　on　her　way　to　Fougeres　rapidly；　without　once　turning　her　head　to　look　at　the　home　she　abandoned。　When　they　reached　the　summit　of　the　rocks　of　Saint…Sulpice　Barbette　set　fire　to　the　pile　of　fagots；　and　the　boy　helped　her　to　pile　on　the　green　gorse；　damp　with　hoarfrost；　to　make　the　smoke　more　dense。
  〃That　fire　will　last　longer　than　your　father；　longer　than　I；　longer　than　the　Gars；〃　said　Barbette；　in　a　savage　voice。
  While　the　widow　of　Galope…Chopine　and　her　son　with　his　bloody　foot　stood　watching；　the　one；　with　a　gloomy　expression　of　revenge；　the　other　with　curiosity；　the　curling　of　the　smoke；　Mademoiselle　de　Verneuil's　eyes　were　fastened　on　the　same　rock；　trying；　but　in　vain；　to　see　her　lover's　signal。　The　fog；　which　had　thickened；　buried　the　whole　region　under　a　veil；　its　gray　tints　obscuring　even　the　outlines　of　the　scenery　that　was　nearest　the　town。　She　examined　with　tender　anxiety　the　rocks；　the　castle；　the　buildings；　which　loomed　like　shadows　through　the　mist。　Near　her　window　several　trees　stood　out　against　this　blue…gray　background；　the　sun　gave　a　dull　tone　as　of　tarnished　silver　to　the　sky；　its　rays　colored　the　bare　branches　of　the　trees；　where　a　few　last　leaves　were　fluttering；　with　a　dingy　red。　But　too　many　dear　and　delightful　sentiments　filled　Marie's　soul　to　let　her　notice　the　ill…omens　of　a　scene　so　out　of　harmony　with　the　joys　she　was　tasting　in　advance。　For　the　last　two　days　her　ideas　had　undergone　a　change。　The　fierce；　undisciplined　vehemence　of　her　passions　had　yielded　under　the　influence　of　the　equable　atmosphere　which　a　true　love　gives　to　life。　The　certainty　of　being　loved；　sought　through　so　many　perils；　had　given　birth　to　a　desire　to　re…enter　those　social　conditions　which　sanction　love；　and　which　despair　alone　had　made　her　leave。　To　love　for　a　moment　only　now　seemed　to　her　a　species　of　weakness。　She　saw　herself　lifted　from　the　dregs　of　society；　where　misfortune　had　driven　her；　to　the　high　rank　in　which　her　father　had　meant　to　place　her。　Her　vanity；　repressed　for　a　time　by　the　cruel　alternations　of　hope　and　misconception；　was　awakened　and　showed　her　all　the　benefits　of　a　great　position。　Born　in　a　certain　way　to　rank；　marriage　to　a　marquis　meant；　to　her　mind；　living　and　acting　in　the　sphere　that　belonged　to　her。　Having　known　the　chances　and　changes　of　an　adventurous　life；　she　could　appreciate；　better　than　other　women；　the　grandeur　of　the　feelings　which　make　the　Family。　Marriage　and　motherhood　with　all　their　cares　seemed　to　her　less　a　task　than　a　rest。　She　loved　the　calm　and　virtuous　life　she　saw　through　the　clouds　of　this　last　storm　as　a　woman　weary　of　virtue　may　sometimes　covet　an　illicit　passion。　Virtue　was　to　her　a　new　seduction。
  〃Perhaps；〃　she　thought；　leaving　the　window　without　seeing　the　signal　on　the　rocks　of　Saint…Sulpice；　〃I　have　been　too　coquettish　with　him　but　I　knew　he　loved　me！　Francine；　it　is　not　a　dream；　to…night　I　shall　be　Marquise　de　Montauran。　What　have　I　done　to　deserve　such　perfect　happiness？　Oh！　I　love　him；　and　love　alone　is　love's　reward。　And　yet；　I　think　God　means　to　recompense　me　for　taking　heart　through　all　my　misery；　he　means　me　to　forget　my　sufferingsfor　you　know；　Francine；　I　have　suffered。〃
  〃To…night；　Marquise　de　Montauran；　you；　Marie？　Ah！　until　it　is　done　I　cannot　believe　it！　Who　has　told　him　your　true　goodness？〃
  〃Dear　child！　he　has　more　than　his　handsome　eyes　to　see　me　with；　he　has　a　soul。　If　you　had　seen　him；　as　I　have；　in　danger！　Oh！　he　knows　how　to　lovehe　is　so　brave！〃
  〃If　you　really　love　him　why　do　you　let　him　come　to　Fougeres？〃
  〃We　had　no　time　to　say　one　word　to　each　other　when　the　Blues　surprised　us。　Besides；　his　coming　is　a　proof　of　love。　Can　I　ever　have　proofs　enough？　And　now；　Francine；　do　my　hair。〃
  But　she　pulled　it　down　a　score　of　times　with　motions　that　seemed　electric；　as　though　some　stormy　thoughts　were　mingling　still　with　the　arts　of　her　coquetry。　As　she　rolled　a　curl　or　smoothed　the　shining　plaits　she　asked　herself；　with　a　remnant　of　distrust；　whether　the　marquis　were　deceiving　her；　but　treachery　seemed　to　her　impossible；　for　did　he　not　expose　himself　to　instant　vengeance　by　entering　Fougeres？　While　studying　in　her　mirror　the　effects　of　a　sidelong　glance；　a　smile；　a　gentle　frown；　an　attitude　of　anger；　or　of　love；　or　disdain；　she　was　seeking　some　woman's　wile　by　which　to　probe　to　the　last　instant　the　heart　of　the　young　leader。
  〃You　are　right；　Francine；〃　she　said；　〃I　wish　with　you　that　the　marriage　were　over。　This　is　the　last　of　my　cloudy　daysit　is　big　with　death　or　happiness。　Oh！　that　fog　is　dreadful；〃　she　went　on；　again　looking　towards　the　heights　of　Saint…Sulpice；　which　were　still　veiled　in　mist。
  She　began　to　arrange　the　silk　and　muslin　curtains　which　draped　the　window；　making　them　intercept　the　light　and　produce　in　the　room　a　voluptuous　chiaro…scuro。
  〃Francine；〃　she　said；　〃take　away　those　knick…knacks　on　the　mantelpiece；　leave　only　the　clock　and　the　two　Dresden　vases。　I'll　fill　those　vases　myself　with　the　flowers　Corentin　brought　me。　Take　out　the　chairs；　I　want　only　this　sofa　and　a　fauteuil。　Then　sweep　the　carpet；　so　as　to　bring　out　the　colors；　and　put　wax　candles　in　the　sconces　and　on　the　mantel。〃
  Marie　looked　long　and　carefully　at　the　old　tapestry　on　the　walls。　Guided　by　her　innate　taste　she　found　among　the　brilliant　tints　of　these　hangings　the　shades　by　which　to　connect　their　antique　beauty　with　the　furniture　and　accessories　of　the　boudoir；　either　by　the　harmony　of　color　or　the　charm　of　contrast。　The　same　thought　guided　the　arrangement　of　the　flowers　with　which　she　filled　the　twisted　vases　which　decorated　her　chamber。　The　sofa　was　placed　beside　the　fire。　On　either　side　of　the　bed；　which　filled　the　space　parallel　to　that　of　the　chimney；　she　placed　on　gilded　tables　tall　Dresden　vases　filled　with　foliage　and　flowers　that　were　sweetly　fragrant。　She　quivered　more　than　once　as　she　arranged　the　folds　of　the　green　damask　above　the　bed；　and　studied　the　fall　of　the　drapery　which　concealed　it。　Such　preparations　have　a　secret；　ineffable　happiness　about　them；　they　cause　so　many　delightful　emotions　that　a　woman　as　she　makes　them　forgets　her　doubts；　and　Mademoiselle　de　Verneuil　forgot　hers。　There　is　in　truth　a　religious