"Didn't he hoot just now?"
"What did that hooting have to do with me, I should like to know? I
supposed it was your soldiers letting you know of their arrival."
"Nonsense, you did not think that."
"Yes, I did. But do drink that glass of Bordeaux; the wine is good."
Surprised at the natural behaviour of the youth and also by the
frivolity of his manners and the youthfulness of his face, made even
more juvenile by the careful curling of his fair hair, the commandant
hesitated in the midst of his suspicions. He noticed that Madame du
Gua was intently watching the glances that her son gave to
Mademoiselle de Verneuil, and he asked her abruptly: "How old are you,
/citoyenne/?"
"Ah, Monsieur l'officier," she said, "the rules of the Republic are
very severe; must I tell you that I am thirty-eight?"
"May I be shot if I believe it! Marche-a-Terre is here; it was he who
gave that cry; you are Chouans in disguise. God's thunder! I'll search
the inn and make sure of it!"
Just then a hoot, somewhat like those that preceded it, came from the
courtyard; the commandant rushed out, and missed seeing the pallor
that covered Madame du Gua's face as he spoke. Hulot saw at once that
the sound came from a postilion harnessing his horses to the coach,
and he cast aside his suspicions, all the more because it seemed
absurd to suppose that the Chouans would risk themselves in Alencon.
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