"Do not fear them, my son. Father Francois has the list of them; he will have every man collected by daylight on the 7th, and he will come on with them himself as far as the cross-roads; they will there meet my own children from St. Laud." "There were to be one hundred and seventy-five from St. Michael." "Yes; and one hundred and forty from St. Laud; and thirty will have joined us from Petit Ange de Poitou before we reach the turn from St. Michael." "And have you positively determined you will start with them from St. Laud's yourself, Father Jerome." "With God's will, my son, I most assuredly shall do so; and from that to the walls of Saumur, they shall see before them my tattered Curé's frock, and the blessed symbol of their hope. I will carry the cross before them from the porch of the little church which shall once more be my own, till I plant it on the citadel of Saumur beside the standard of the King." "Oh! if we had a few more Father Jeromes!" said Henri. "There might perhaps be more soldiers in La Vendée than at present; but perhaps also there would be fewer Christians," said the priest. "May God forgive me if, in my zeal for my King, I am too remiss in His service." They rode on a little way in silence, for Father Jerome felt a slight qualm of conscience at his warlike proceedings, and Henri did not like to interrupt his meditations; but the Curé soon recovered himself. "I shall have a goodly assemblage of followers," said he, "before I reach Coron. Those from Echanbroignes will join us half-a-mile from the town. There will be above two hundred from Echanbroignes." "Will there? So many as that, think you?" "They will muster certainly not short of two hundred. Near seven hundred men will follow me into Coron on the evening of the 7th." "They will find provisions there in plenty--meat, bread, and wine. They are not used to lie soft; they will not grumble at having clean straw to sleep on." "They shall grumble at nothing, my friend; if your care can supply them with food, well; if not, we will find bread enough among the townsfolk. There is not a housewife in Coron, who would refuse me the contents of her larder." "The bullocks are ready for the butcher's axe in the stalls at Durbellière, please your reverence," said Chapeau, who rode near enough to his master to take a part in the conversation as occasion offered. "And the stone wine-jars are ready corked. Momont saw to the latter part himself. May the saints direct that the drinking have not the same effect upon our friends that the corking had on Momont, or there will be many sick head-aches in Coron on the next morning." "There will be too many of us for that, Jacques. Five hundred throats will dispose of much good wine, so as to do but little injury." "That would be true, your reverence, were not some throats so much wider than others. You will always see that one porker half empties the trough before others have moistened their snouts in the mess."