La Vireville

“ In their stead, flaring defiantly out in the wind and rain over counterscarp and glacis, was the red, white, and blue of the Republic.
"Halt!" cried La Vireville, and remained a moment staring at that significant sight. Then he called for Grain d'Orge.
"Mon vieux, the moment has come," he said sadly. "I give the word to disband. It is not right to sacrifice the rest of the men uselessly. Remember what I told you about the mainland. Try to get them all taken off in the boats of the English squadron, which will be possible if the wind goes down."
"But you, Monsieur Augustin, what will you do?" ”

“ La Vireville smiled. "He shall bring it to France."
"And show it to the little King at Versailles," interposed de Flavigny, "when we have put him into his own again!"
All the amusement died out of the Chouan's face. "You have not heard then?"
"What!" asked Rene in alarm.
La Vireville took off his shabby, wide-brimmed hat. "Louis XVII. is dead . . . he died before you sailed, on the eighth of June. I have not long known it—my men do not know it yet. The Comte de Provence will have to be proclaimed here. The Bretons, who know nothing of him, will probably murmur. ”

“ Mr. Elphinstone got up from his memoirs when the Chevalier de la Vireville was shown in to him in the library.
"I am afraid that I am interrupting you, sir," said the émigré. "If so, it shall only be for a moment."
"You are not interrupting me at all," returned the old gentleman pleasantly. "I am very glad to see you, M. de la Vireville; pray sit down. But I thought you had started for Jersey."
"I am just about to do so, sir," said La Vireville, obeying him. "I came to take my leave of you and of Anne."
"The child will indeed be sorry to miss you," observed his grandfather. ”

“ Yes, in a couple of days, most probably," answered the émigré rather absently, gazing at the moon-silvered coast, dear and implacable, where one day, as he well knew, he should land for the last time.
"And what the devil is this, M. de la Vireville?" demanded a voice behind him, and La Vireville turned to see Lieutenant Gosset, the Jerseyman who commanded the Aristocrate. "Have you kidnapped it, or is it, perchance, your own?" went on the sailor.
"Neither," answered La Vireville. "Let me make known to you the Comte Anne-Hilarion de Flavigny. ”

“ A very little of this balm, dexterously applied, sufficed to get out of the poet a description of the little boy upstairs sufficiently detailed to satisfy La Vireville that he was indeed Anne-Hilarion.
And then, Mathieu having at last taken his departure, La Vireville was left at the door of the inn, revolving plans. It was tempting to go upstairs now, while the man was below, and (if he could find the right room) slip out of the place with the child. ”

“ In Auray streets, where he had twice fought, and which were full this morning of sunshine and bright air, and of peasants with baskets, leading cows or driving pigs (for it was market-day) , La Vireville was looked at with curiosity and pity. Probably, he thought, recognising the fact, because he was a solitary prisoner in the middle of his guards. They were used to batches at a time now in Auray. . . . And, passing once again by the Halles, he met the glance, brimming with a beautiful compassion, of a young countrywoman in a wonderful wide coif, who held a child in her arms. ”

“ The two changed places, and La Vireville restored his wounded arm to the sling. Before the cord was knotted the officer in charge of the party began to read out the names. Every man answered to his own.
"La Vireville, Fortuné."
"Present."
The officer looked up from the list. "You are not to go with this batch. Why the devil have you tied him up, corporal?"
"Not to . . . not to go . . ." stammered La Vireville, thinking he must be already dead—and dreaming. "It must be a mistake—you are confusing me with someone else!" ”

“ The stars moved on; the sea-wind swept, sighing, over the prone figures which would lie yet more still to-morrow, and at last La Vireville, rousing himself, came back to the present.
Should he try to save himself, this time, at his trial? There was just a chance of doing so if, as was probable, the tribunal had not the minutes of the court at Auray. Could he gull his judges with some story of his being just a Breton peasant, as his dress, or at least the chief part of it, proclaimed him? They were showing more mercy to the Chouans than to their leaders. ”

“ And the moon would put aside the flying clouds for a moment, to show them the surf boiling white round some evil splinter of rock standing up in the channel like a warning finger, or the water sucking greedily over an unseen slab of granite. Only François' consummate steering, his steady nerves, and, perhaps, the luck which sometimes attends those who challenge risks, got them safely through. La Vireville kept Anne's eyes covered the whole time. ”

“ La Vireville switched at an anemone with a hazel twig that he had pulled off.
"Good God!" he exclaimed to himself. "It is not the only reason, child," he returned. "But duels are not subjects for little boys to talk about."
Ordinarily Anne-Hilarion would have been deterred at once by a tone and a phraseology so foreign to the speaker, as he knew him, but he was undeniably wrought upon by his surroundings, and pursued the forbidden topic.
"I expect you have fought a duel, have you not, M. le Chevalier?" he said tentatively, looking up at his tall companion. But La Vireville was silent. ”

“ But the rest of the Carhoët country, she suddenly acknowledged in a voice that shook, had become intolerable to her.
An extraordinary devotion to her brother André had always been hers from childhood; listening to her, La Vireville thought that so ardent a nature as hers (beating under an exterior that in some ways belied it) must always have needed someone on whom to expend itself, and that having so early found that person, it was singularly fitting that she should never have been forced to transfer her allegiance. ”

“ Mme. de la Vireville did not obey him. She came up, kissed his ring, and said with the directness of a child, "It is not spring in my heart, Monseigneur. Your Grandeur knows why."
The Bishop may have had the eyes of a mystic, but they were by no means blind to mundane affairs. He looked at her now. "Yes, I know, my daughter. I have been wishing for some time to speak with you of this. You will not feel cold if we walk up and down a little in the sun?"
She shook her head and turned with him. At their feet the snowdrops stood smiling and shivering behind little rows of box. ”

“ For a second the gorse heaved beneath him. "Do you mean what you are saying?" cried La Vireville, seizing her wrist. "Will you really marry a penniless cripple who has nothing but his sword?"
Her smile was brilliant now, and dazzled Fortuné while she faced him, captive, as on a certain morning a year ago. "No, M. de la Vireville, I shall marry a man! ”

“ M. de la Vireville went painfully over the tract of large, rolling pebbles between him and the cliffs, the sweat breaking out on his forehead; but, not having 'chouanné' for nothing, he set his teeth and persevered, throwing his weight as much as possible on his sound foot and on the stick with which the captain of the Seaflower had furnished him. "Devilish odd I must look from the cliff," he reflected, "if there's a patrol up there." ”

“ La Vireville had his way in the end, and rode with them at dusk to the sea, and Mme. de Guéfontaine walked beside the grey horse, throwing a glance now and then at the bandaged foot, which his rider could not get into the stirrup.
"It was all my fault," she said, when they had gone a little way, and L'Estournel, place of refuge and memories, was a memory once more.
"Pardon me, Madame," objected La Vireville from above her, "it was not you who dropped a barrel on my toes."
She gave a rather impatient sigh. "Do you always jest about yourself, M. le Chevalier?" ”

“ A coppice ran along the side of this second field, and towards this, on his hands and knees, the ends of the tricolour sash dragging in the wet grass, La Vireville made his way. And in the coppice, having drunk some brandy, cut off his slashed boot and applied the same restorative to his swollen foot, he very stoically lay down under an oak, thinking to sleep. That solace, however, he could not compass; his foot hurt too much. ”

“ A little way off Anne-Hilarion was crouched in a patch of primroses, which he was adding one by one to the tight, hot bunch in his hand. Grain d'Orge and another Chouan of about the same standard of personal cleanliness, sitting on a fallen trunk, their muskets resting against them, regarded his labours with a wide, admiring grin. And under a beech-tree, a fresh bandage round his head, La Vireville himself lay propped on his elbows, reading and re-reading a letter. A map lay open on the ground beside him. ”

“ Introducing Grain d'Orge (1) Anne-Hilarion was still sitting obediently on the cloak, staring at the now stationary compass. La Vireville stooped and kissed him before he had time to ask any questions. "Anne, you have been a very brave little boy! Now you will go on being brave, will you not? The fisherman and his boat have gone home; you will not see them any more. But we do not need them, because for the rest of the day we are going to stay here, in a cave that I know of. You can help me to carry these things to it. Mind you do not slip on the seaweed!" ”

“ La Vireville said nothing.
"There is one man who will not escape in any case," went on the lieutenant of Béon, looking towards the tombstone a little way off where Sombreuil sat talking to some of his officers. "He is exempt from the capitulation—he exempted himself. And do you know, La Vireville, that he was summoned by the English Admiralty to Portsmouth, to take command of us of the black cockade, on the very eve of his wedding day? ”

“ And, acutely conscious all the while of the improbability of his story, La Vireville concluded with a moving reference to the innocent child, about, perhaps, to lose his mother for ever, to the sanctity of the domestic hearth in danger of violation, and to the purity of moral principles inculcated by the glorious Republic. But the rhetoric which, a couple of years ago, would not have failed to move a demagogue who sent a daily score of heads to the guillotine, appeared to be without power over a peaceable and straightforward mariner. ”

“ Tollemache, catching sight of the clock. "Are the boy's things ready?"
"He has only got what he stands up in," said La Vireville, smiling. "No, here's my mother with a bundle she has put together, but Heaven knows what is in it."
"Well, there will be no lack of boat-cloaks to keep him warm," returned the sailor. "I promise you I will look after him; he seems a jolly little beggar." And he added feelingly: "It's a mercy he can talk English!"
So, farewells to Mme. de la Vireville over, they walked down to the quay, the new protector and the old, with Anne between them. ”

“ No plan was sound which did not provide, somehow, for the disposal of Anne's captor. La Vireville was not in the least inclined to boggle at the idea of putting a knife into that gentleman if an opportunity occurred; the difficulty was less to provide that opportunity than to get rid of the ensuing corpse. To go in and quarrel with the man would only lead to tumult and imprisonment. ”

“ He lifted the pistol.
La Vireville nodded. "Give me the lantern." And with it he went forward to the little ranks, now pitifully depleted. "Mes gars," he cried, holding the lantern high, and running his eyes over the rows of familiar faces, "this is our last chance. We must help retake the fort. If it is not retaken, all is finished. But listen now. If I think that to fight any further is useless I shall give the word—Every man for himself." And he explained, as he had explained to Grain d'Orge, his reason for this course. ”

“ La Vireville did know it, or thought he did. Under that cognomen, he believed, had been concealed the identity of a gentleman from the St. Pol de Léon country, a M. de Kérouan or something of the sort. This, however, did not help him much, and when Mme. Rozel came back he found himself observing her for the next few minutes with an increasing interest. Her face was rather pale, with an intense clear pallor that was accentuated rather than reduced by the lamplight, and she had wide, beautiful brows. ”

“ So you see, mon petit, that there is nothing to be alarmed at now, and as for hearing shots and seeing . . . a little blood . . . you must remember that you too will fight for the King some day!"
"Yes," said the little boy. "Unless I write a big book like Grandpapa."
"Well, whatever you do, you must never let yourself be frightened."
"I suppose that you and Papa are never frightened?" deduced Anne.
"Never!" responded La Vireville firmly. ("Heaven forgive me for a liar!" he added inwardly.) ”

“ This time fate (or, in this particular, La Vireville's knowledge) had brought the travellers to a maison de confiance—one of the chain of secret Royalist refuges which stretched along the roads from the coast—had given them a well-disposed fisherman, its master, and a convenient boat, but had denied the wind necessary to the thirty miles that lay between them and Jersey.
François, the fisherman in question, shrugged his shoulders again. "Very well, if you insist. You know the risks you are running. If we weather Chausey, we may be blown on to the Minquiers." ”