"
"They have."
"Shoulder arms! Left wheel, forward, march!" cried Gerard, at a sign
from the commandant.
The drum-corps marched at the head of the two companies designated by
Gerard. At the first roll of the drums the commandant, who still stood
plunged in thought, seemed to rouse himself, and he left the town
accompanied by his two officers, to whom he said not a word. Merle and
Gerard looked at each other silently as if to ask, "How long is he
going to keep us in suspense?" and, as they marched, they cautiously
kept an observing eye on their leader, who continued to vent rambling
words between his teeth. Several times these vague phrases sounded
like oaths in the ears of his soldiers, but not one of them dared to
utter a word; for they all, when occasion demanded, maintained the
stern discipline to which the veterans who had served under Bonaparte
in Italy were accustomed. The greater part of them had belonged, like
Hulot, to the famous battalions which capitulated at Mayenne under a
promise not to serve again on the frontier, and the army called them
"Les Mayencais." It would be difficult to find leaders and men who
more thoroughly understood each other.
At dawn of the day after their departure Hulot and his troop were on
the high-road to Alencon, about three miles from that town towards
Mortagne, at a part of the road which leads through pastures watered
by the Sarthe.
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