Towards sunset the three travellers arrived safely at Saint-James, a
little town which owes its name to the English, by whom it was built
in the fourteenth century, during their occupation of Brittany. Before
entering it Mademoiselle de Verneuil was witness of a strange scene of
this strange war, to which, however, she gave little attention; she
feared to be recognized by some of her enemies, and this dread
hastened her steps. Five or six thousand peasants were camping in a
field. Their clothing was not in any degree warlike; in fact, this
tumultuous assembly resembled that of a great fair. Some attention was
needed to even observe that these Bretons were armed, for their
goatskins were so made as to hide their guns, and the weapons that
were chiefly visible were the scythes with which some of the men had
armed themselves while awaiting the distribution of muskets. Some were
eating and drinking, others were fighting and quarrelling in loud
tones, but the greater part were sleeping on the ground. An officer in
a red uniform attracted Mademoiselle de Verneuil's attention, and she
supposed him to belong to the English service. At a little distance
two other officers seemed to be trying to teach a few Chouans, more
intelligent than the rest, to handle two cannon, which apparently
formed the whole artillery of the royalist army.
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