The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of MachecoulDumas, Alexandre
History
The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of Machecoul
Dumas, Alexandre
Berry, Marie-Caroline de Bourbon-Sicile, duchesse de, 1798-1870 -- Fiction; France -- History -- Louis Philippe, 1830-1848 -- Fiction
"Joseph! Joseph!" cried Marianne; "how dare you mingle the name of God
with words of hatred against your brother who loves you so, you and
yours, that he'd take the bread out of his own mouth to give it to
your children! If an evil fate brings civil war into the land that's
no reason why you should bring it into our home. Good God! Keep your
own opinions and let Pascal keep his. His are inoffensive, but yours
are not. His gun stays hooked over the fireplace, he meddles with no
intrigues, and threatens no party; whereas, for the last six months
there has not been a day you haven't gone out armed to the teeth, and
sworn evil to the townspeople, of whom my father is one, and even to
my family itself."
"Better go out with a musket and face the villains than betray those
among whom you live, like a coward, and guide another army of Blues
into the midst of us, that they may pillage the château of those who
have kept the faith."
"Who has guided the Blues?"
"Pascal."
"When? where?"
"To-night; at the ford of Pont-Farcy."
"Good God! It was from there the shots came!" cried Marianne.
Suddenly the eyes of the poor woman became fixed and haggard. They
lighted on Joseph's hands.
"You have blood on your hands!" she cried. "Whose blood is it? Joseph,
tell me that! Whose blood is it?"
The Chouan's first movement was to hide his hands, but he thought
better of it, and brazened the matter out.
"That blood," he answered, his face, which had been pale, becoming
purple, "is the blood of a traitor to his God, his country, and his
king. It is the blood of a man who forgot that the Blues had sent his
father to the scaffold and his brother to the galleys,--a man who did
not shrink from taking service with the Blues."
"You have killed my husband! you have murdered your brother!" cried
Marianne, facing Joseph with savage violence.
"No, I did not."
"You lie."
"I swear I did not."
"Then if you swear you did not, swear also that you will help me to
avenge him."
"Help you to avenge him! I, Joseph Picaut? Never!" said the Chouan, in
a determined voice. "For though I did not kill him, I approved of
those who did; and if I had been in their place, though he were my
brother, I swear by our Lord that I would have done as they did."
"Repeat that," said Marianne; "for I hope I did not hear you right."
The Chouan repeated his speech, word for word.
"Then I curse you, as I curse them!" cried Marianne, raising her hand
with a terrible gesture above her brother-in-law's head. "That
vengeance which you refuse to take, in which I now include you,--you,
your brother's murderer in heart, if not in deed,--God and I will
accomplish together; and if God fails me, then I alone! And now," she
added, with an energy which completely subdued the Chouan, "where is
he? What have they done with his body? Speak! You intend to return me
his body, don't you?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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