"The Gars is no doubt that young /ci-devant/ with the black cravat,
--sent by the tyrant and his allies Pitt and Coburg."
At that words the Chouan raised his head proudly and said: "Sent by
God and the king!" He uttered the words with an energy which exhausted
his strength. The commandant saw the difficulty of questioning a dying
man, whose countenance expressed his gloomy fanaticism, and he turned
away his head with a frown. Two soldiers, friends of those whom
Marche-a-Terre had so brutally killed with the butt of his whip,
stepped back a pace or two, took aim at the Chouan, whose fixed eyes
did not blink at the muzzles of their guns, fired at short range, and
brought him down. When they approached the dead body to strip it, the
dying man found strength to cry out loudly, "Vive le roi!"
"Yes, yes, you canting hypocrite," cried Clef-des-Coeurs; "go and make
your report to that Virgin of yours. Didn't he shout in our faces,
'Vive le roi!' when we thought him cooked?"
"Here are his papers, commandant," said Beau-Pied.
"Ho! ho!" cried Clef-des-Coeurs. "Come, all of you, and see this minion
of the good God with colors on his stomach!"
Hulot and several soldiers came round the body, now entirely naked,
and saw upon its breast a blue tattooing in the form of a swollen
heart. It was the sign of initiation into the brotherhood of the
Sacred Heart.
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