remarked to his two officers as he pointed out the woods which seemed to have swallowed up his two enfants perdus.
While the two scouts were making some sort of report, Hulot ceased to watch Marche-à-Terre. The Chouan began again to give a sharp whistle, a cry so shrill that it could be heard a long way off; and then, before either of his guards so much as saw what he was after, he dealt them each a blow from his whip-handle that stretched them on the roadside. All at once answering cries, or rather savage yells, startled the Republicans. A terrible fire was opened upon them from the wood that crowned the slope where the Chouan had been sitting, and seven or eight of their men fell. Five or six soldiers had taken aim at Marche-à-Terre, but none of them hit him. He had climbed the slope with the agility of a wild cat and disappeared in the woods above. His sabots rolled down into the ditch, and it was easy then to see upon his feet the great iron-bound shoes which were always worn by the Chasseurs du Roi. At the first alarm given by the Chouans, all the recruits had made a dash for it into the woods on the right, like a flock of birds scared by the approach of a passer-by.
"Fire on those rascals!" roared the commandant.
The company fired, but the recruits were well able to screen themselves from the musket-shots. Every man set his back against a tree, and before the muskets had been reloaded, they were all out of sight.
"Issue warrants for a Departmental Legion, eh?" Hulot said to Gérard. "One would have to be as big a fool as a Director to put any dependence on a requisition from this district. The Assemblies would show more sense if they would send us clothing, and money, and ammunition, and give up voting reinforcements."
"These swine like their bannocks better than ammunition bread," said Beau-Pied, the wag of the company.
At his words, hooting and yells of derisive laughter went up from the Republican troops, crying shame on the deserters, but a sudden silence followed all at once. The soldiers
