Madame du Gua, with a
finger on her lip to demand silence, walked towards the Chouan, who
guessed rather than heard her question, "How many of you are here?"
"Eighty-seven."
"They are sixty-five; I counted them."
"Good," said the savage, with sullen satisfaction.
Attentive to all Francine's movements, the Chouan disappeared behind
the willow, as he saw her turn to look for the enemy over whom she was
keeping an instinctive watch.
Six or eight persons, attracted by the noise of the carriage-wheels,
came out on the portico, shouting: "It is the Gars! it is he; here he
is!" On this several other men ran out, and their coming interrupted
the lovers. The Marquis de Montauran went hastily up to them, making
an imperative gesture for silence, and pointing to the farther end of
the causeway, where the Republican escort was just appearing. At the
sight of the well-known blue uniforms with red facings, and the
glittering bayonets, the amazed conspirators called out hastily, "You
have surely not betrayed us?"
"If I had, I should not warn you," said the marquis, smiling bitterly.
"Those Blues," he added, after a pause, "are the escort of this young
lady, whose generosity has delivered us, almost miraculously, from a
danger we were in at Alencon. I will tell you about it later.
Mademoiselle and her escort are here in safety, on my word as a
gentleman, and we must all receive them as friends.
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