The supposed recteur found an opportunity of whispering to Coupiau:
"Has he really any money?"
"Eh, M. Gudin, if all he has found its way into your reverence's pockets they would not be very heavy."
The Republicans, hurrying to reach Ernée, came past the inn without stopping there. The sound of their rapid march brought Gudin and the innkeeper to the door to watch them curiously. All at once the stout ecclesiastic made a dash at a soldier who was lagging behind.
"Eh?" he cried, "Gudin! Are you really going with the Blues? Infatuated boy! Do you know what you are about?"
"Yes, uncle," answered the corporal; "I have sworn to fight for France!"
"But your soul is in danger, scapegrace," cried his uncle, appealing to the religious scruples that are so strong in Breton hearts.
"Well, uncle, I won't say but that if the king had put himself at the head of his——"
"Idiot! Who is talking about the king? Will your Republic give preferment? It has upset everything! What kind of a career do you expect? Stay with us; we shall triumph some day or other, and then you shall be made councillor to some Parliament."
"A Parliament?" asked Gudin mockingly. "Good-bye, uncle!"
"You shall not have the worth of three louis from me; I shall disinherit you," his uncle called angrily after him.
"Thanks," said the Republican, and they parted.
The fumes of cider to which the patriot had treated Coupiau while the little troop was passing had succeeded in obscuring the driver's intelligence somewhat; but he brightened up again when the landlord, having learned the upshot of the struggle, brought the news of a victory for the Blues. Coupiau brought out his coach upon the road again, and they were not long in showing themselves in the bot-
