The mother rose, with new life; there was some one there. It seemed to her that now she had some one to speak to; she had just relieved her thirst and prayed; her strength returned, she began to ascend the slope in the direction from which she had heard that enormous distant voice.
Suddenly, she saw rising from the extreme edge of the horizon, a tall tower. The tower stood alone in this wild landscape; a ray from the setting sun lighted it up. She was more than a league away from it. Behind this tower, a wide expanse of verdure lost itself in the haze; this was the forest of Fougères.
This tower appeared to her to he on the very point of the horizon from which had come that roaring voice that seemed to her like a call. Had this tower made the noise?
Michelle Fléchard reached the top of the pleateau; she had nothing more before her except the plain.
She walked toward the tower.
CHAPTER VI.
THE SITUATION.
The moment had come.
The inexorable held the merciless.
Cimourdain had Lantenac in his grasp.
The old Royalist rebel was taken in his ancestral seat, it was evident that he could not escape; and Cimourdain intended to have the marquis beheaded at his own home, on the spot, on his own territory, and in a certain sense in his own house, in order that the feudal dwelling should see the head of the feudal master fall, and that it might be a memorable example.
This is why he had sent to Fougères for the guillotine. It has just been seen on the way.
To kill Lantenace was to kill la Vendée; to kill la Vendée was to save France. Cimourdain did not hesitate. This man was familiar with the cruelty of duty.
