"Friends," said Cadoudal, pointing to Roland, "do you see that young man?"
All eyes were bent upon Roland. "Yes," came from every mouth.
"He came with a safe-guard from our brothers in the Midi; his life is sacred to you; he may be captured, but it must be living--not a hair of his head must be touched."
"Very good, general," replied the Chouans.
"And now, my friends, remember that you are the sons of those thirty Bretons who fought the thirty British between Ploermel and Josselin, ten leagues from here, and conquered them." Then, in a low voice, he added with a sigh, "Unhappily we have not to do with the British this time."
The fog had now lifted completely, and, as usually happens, a few rays of the wintry sun tinged the plain of Plescop with a yellow light.
It was easy therefore to distinguish the movements of the two troops.
While Roland was returning to the Republicans, Branche-d'Or galloped toward the two hundred men who were blocking the way. He had hardly spoken to Cadoudal's four lieutenants before a hundred men were seen to wheel to the right and a hundred more to wheel to the left and march in opposite directions, one toward Plumergat, the other toward Saint-Ave, leaving the road open. Each body halted three-quarters of a mile down the road, grounded arms and remained motionless. Branche-d'Or returned to Cadoudal.
"Have you any special orders to give me, general?" he asked.
"Yes, one," answered Cadoudal, "take eight men and follow me. When you see the young Republican, with whom I breakfasted, fall under his horse, fling yourself upon him, you and your eight men, before he has time to free himself, and take him prisoner."
"Yes, general."
"You know that I must have him safe and sound."
"That's understood, general"
"Choose your eight men. Monsieur de Montrevel once captured, and his parole given, you can do as you like."
"Suppose he won't give his parole?"
"Then you must surround him so that he can't escape, and watch him till the fight is over."
"Very well," said Branche-d'Or, heaving a sigh; "but it'll be a little hard to stand by with folded arms while the others are having their fun."
"Pooh! who knows?" said Cadoudal; "there'll probably be enough for every body."
Then, casting a glance over the plain and seeing his own men stationed apart, and the Republicans massed for battle, he cried: "A musket!"
They brought one. Cadoudal raised it above his head and fired in the air. Almost at the same moment, a shot fired in the same manner from the midst of the Republicans answered like an echo to that of Cadoudal.
Two drums beating the advance and a bugle were heard. Cadoudal rose in his stirrups.
"Children," he cried, "have you all said your morning prayers?"
"Yes, yes!" answered almost every voice. "If any of you forgot them, or did not have time, let them pray now."
Five or six peasants knelt down and prayed.
The drums and bugle drew nearer.
"General, general," cried several voices impatiently, "they are coming."
The general motioned to the kneeling peasants.
"True," replied the impatient ones.
Those who prayed rose one by one, according as their prayers had been long or short. By the time they were all afoot, the Republicans had crossed nearly one-third of the distance. They marched, bayonets fixed, in three ranks, each rank three abreast.
Roland rode at the head of the first rank, General Hatry between the first and second. Both were easily recognized, being the only men on horseback. Among the Chouans, Cadoudal was the only rider, Branche-d'Or having dismounted to take command of the eight men who were to follow Georges.
"General," said a voice, "the prayer is ended, and every one is standing."
Cadoudal looked around him to make sure it was true; then he cried in a loud voice: "Forward! Enjoy yourselves, my lads!"
This permission, which to Vendeans and Chouans, was equivalent to sounding a charge, was scarcely given before the Chouans spread over the fields to cries of "Vive le roi!" waving their hats with one hand and their guns with the other.
Instead of keeping in rank like the Republicans, they scattered like sharpshooters, forming an immense crescent, of which Georges and his horse were the centre.
A moment later the Republicans were flanked and the firing began.
Cadoudal's men were nearly all poachers, that is to say, excellent marksmen, armed with English carbines, able to carry twice the length of the army musket. Though the first shots fired might have seemed wide of range, these messengers of death nevertheless brought down several men in the Republican ranks.
"Forward!" cried the general.
The soldiers marched on, bayonets fixed; but in a few moments there was no enemy before them. Cadoudal's hundred men had turned skirmishers; they had separated, and fifty men were harassing both of the enemy's flanks. General Hatry ordered his men to wheel to the right and left.
Then came the order: "Fire!"
Two volleys followed with the precision and unanimity of well disciplined troops; but they were almost without result, for the Republicans were firing upon scattered men. Not so with the Chouans, who fired on a mass; with them every shot told.
Roland saw the disadvantage of the position. He looked around and, amid the smoke, distinguished Cadoudal, erect and motionless as an equestrian statue. He understood that the royalist leader was waiting for him.
With a cry he spurred his horse toward him. As if to save him part of the way, Cadoudal put his horse to a gallop. But a hundred feet from Cadoudal he drew rein. "Attention!" he said to Branche-d'Or and his companions.
"Don't be alarmed, general; here we are," said Branche-d'Or.
Cadoudal drew a pistol from his holster and cocked it. Roland, sabre in hand, was charging, crouched on his horse's neck. When they were twenty paces apart, Cadoudal slowly raised his hand in Roland's direction. At ten paces he fired.
The horse Roland was riding had a white star on its forehead. The ball struck the centre of that star, and the horse, mortally wounded, rolled over with its rider at Cadoudal's feet.
Cadoudal put spurs to his own horse and jumped both horse and rider.
Branche-d'Or and his men were ready. They sprang, like a pack of jaguars, upon Roland, entangled under the body of his horse. The young man dropped his sword and tried to seize his pistols, but before he could lay hand upon the holsters two men had him by the arms, while the four others dragged his horse from between his legs. The thing was done with such unanimity that it was easy to see the manoeuvre had been planned.
Roland roared with rage. Branche-d'Or came up to him and put his hat in his hand.
"I do not surrender!" shouted Roland.
"Useless to do so, Monsieur de Montrevel," replied Branche-d'Or with the utmost politeness.
"What do you mean?" demanded Roland, exhausting his strength in a struggle as desperate as it was useless.