Marie went to the threshold of the door and watched him as
he took the path to the right of his hut. From there she could
overlook a series of fields, the curious openings to which formed a
perspective of gates; for the leafless trees and hedges were no longer
a barrier to a full view of the country. When the Chouan's broad hat
was out of sight Mademoiselle de Verneuil turned round to look for the
church at Fougeres, but the shed concealed it. She cast her eyes over
the valley of the Couesnon, which lay before her like a vast sheet of
muslin, the whiteness of which still further dulled a gray sky laden
with snow. It was one of those days when nature seems dumb and noises
are absorbed by the atmosphere. Therefore, though the Blues and their
contingent were marching through the country in three lines, forming a
triangle which drew together as they neared the cottage, the silence
was so profound that Mademoiselle de Verneuil was overcome by a
presentiment which added a sort of physical pain to her mental
torture. Misfortune was in the air.
At last, in a spot where a little curtain of wood closed the
perspective of gates, she saw a young man jumping the barriers like a
squirrel and running with astonishing rapidity. "It is he!" she
thought.
The Gars was dressed as a Chouan, with a musket slung from his
shoulder over his goatskin, and would have been quite disguised were
it not for the grace of his movements.
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