“He came with a safe-guard from our brothers in the Midi; his life is sacred to you; he may be captured, but it must be living--not a hair of his head must be touched.” “Very good, general,” replied the Chouans. “And now, my friends, remember that you are the sons of those thirty Bretons who fought the thirty British between Ploermel and Josselin, ten leagues from here, and conquered them.” Then, in a low voice, he added with a sigh, “Unhappily we have not to do with the British this time.” The fog had now lifted completely, and, as usually happens, a few rays of the wintry sun tinged the plain of Plescop with a yellow light. It was easy therefore to distinguish the movements of the two troops. While Roland was returning to the Republicans, Branche-d’Or galloped toward the two hundred men who were blocking the way. He had hardly spoken to Cadoudal’s four lieutenants before a hundred men were seen to wheel to the right and a hundred more to wheel to the left and march in opposite directions, one toward Plumergat, the other toward Saint-Ave, leaving the road open. Each body halted three-quarters of a mile down the road, grounded arms and remained motionless. Branche-d’Or returned to Cadoudal. “Have you any special orders to give me, general?” he asked. “Yes, one,” answered Cadoudal, “take eight men and follow me. When you see the young Republican, with whom I breakfasted, fall under his horse, fling yourself upon him, you and your eight men, before he has time to free himself, and take him prisoner.” “Yes, general.” “You know that I must have him safe and sound.” “That’s understood, general” “Choose your eight men. Monsieur de Montrevel once captured, and his parole given, you can do as you like.” “Suppose he won’t give his parole?” “Then you must surround him so that he can’t escape, and watch him till the fight is over.” “Very well,” said Branche-d’Or, heaving a sigh; “but it’ll be a little hard to stand by with folded arms while the others are having their fun.” “Pooh! who knows?” said Cadoudal; “there’ll probably be enough for every body.” Then, casting a glance over the plain and seeing his own men stationed apart, and the Republicans massed for battle, he cried: “A musket!” They brought one. Cadoudal raised it above his head and fired in the air. Almost at the same moment, a shot fired in the same manner from the midst of the Republicans answered like an echo to that of Cadoudal. Two drums beating the advance and a bugle were heard. Cadoudal rose in his stirrups. “Children,” he cried, “have you all said your morning prayers?” “Yes, yes!” answered almost every voice. “If any of you forgot them, or did not have time, let them pray now.” Five or six peasants knelt down and prayed. The drums and bugle drew nearer. “General, general,” cried several voices impatiently, “they are coming.” The general motioned to the kneeling peasants. “True,” replied the impatient ones.