The Chouans of the Chevalier de la Vireville's little band, however, never suffered from that particular privation; their leader saw to that. How he managed it, by what system of combined begging, storming, and cajoling, the young Le Goffic knew, but to de Flavigny it was a marvel how he contrived to procure rations for them. The two friends did not very often meet, for though de Flavigny, who was only attached to the régiment du Dresnay, had more leisure than most officers, La Vireville, whose men called for constant attention of a kind that disciplined troops hardly needed, had less. Yet, curiously enough, in those few days of breathing-space, while the Royalists were awaiting the moment for another attempt to free themselves of the snare in which Hoche held them, when the young Republican general indeed was writing, with cruel and justified metaphor, "The enemies are in the rat-trap, and I with divers cats at the door of it."--in those days, when every man's private affairs had sunk into relative unimportance, de Flavigny was to learn that concerning his comrade's personal history which, in spite of occasional speculation, he had never really sought to know. He was, in fact, himself an agent in the chance encounter--if there be such a thing--which brought about the disclosure. It befell as follows: One afternoon, de Flavigny, who was billeted with some other gentlemen of like standing with himself in a cottage in the tiny village of Clouarnet, found himself in his quarters with a couple of these, and, in addition, an officer whom they had brought with them, a M. de St. Four, of the régiment de la marine, usually known, from the name of its colonel, as the regiment d'Hector. M. de St. Four was a person of agreeable address and appearance, about forty years of age, who, when younger, had evidently been very handsome. He had, it seemed, already 'chouanné' a little in southern Brittany under Cadoudal. The Marquis was standing talking to the newcomer by the big, projecting, smoke-blackened hearth, when a tall figure suddenly darkened the doorway of the cottage. "Is M. de Flavigny within?" it inquired, and René recognised the voice as La Vireville's. "Yes, I am here. Do you want me, Fortuné?" he asked, turning round from the hearth. The visitor did the same. And, as La Vireville stooped his head to enter, it occurred to de Flavigny to introduce him and St. Four, Chouans both of them. "Let me make you and this gentleman known to each other first," he began. "M. de St. Four of the régiment d'Hector, M. le Chevalier de la Vire----" The name died on his lips. La Vireville's eyes were not on him at all, but on the stranger, yet the look he wore was enough to slay instantly any attempt at introduction. The naked hatred and contempt on his face seemed to have frozen equally the other man and himself; then, after two or three seconds of an intolerable silence, he turned without a word and walked straight out of the cottage.