"Listen to Joseph," said Guérin, in a low voice to Jean Oullier. "You had better listen to him, for he sees by night like the cats, and his advice is not to be despised." "Well, I say," said Joseph Picaut, putting his plunder into a canvas bag he always carried with him,--"I say that since the Blues reached the top of the embankment they haven't budged. You haven't any ears, you fellows, or you would hear them stamping up there like sheep in a fold. If you don't hear them, I do." "Let us make sure of that," said Jean Oullier to Guérin, thus avoiding a reply to Joseph. "You are right, Jean Oullier, and I'll go myself," replied Guérin. The Vendéan crossed the marsh, crept through the reeds, and went half way up the ascent, crawling on his stomach like a snake among the rocks, and gliding so gently under the bushes that they scarcely stirred as he passed. When he was only about thirty paces from the summit he stood up, put his hat on the end of a long stick, and waved it above his head. Instantly a shot from the summit sent it spinning a hundred feet below its owner. "He was right," said Jean Oullier, who heard the shot. "But what is hindering them? Is their guide killed?" "Their guide is not killed," said Joseph Picaut, in a savage voice. "Did you see him?" asked another voice, for Jean Oullier seemed determined not to speak to Joseph Picaut. "Yes," replied the Chouan. "Did you recognize him?" "Yes." "Then it must be," said Jean Oullier, as if speaking to himself, "that they wanted to get away from the marsh and bivouac behind those rocks, where they are safe from our guns. No doubt they will stay there till morning." Presently a few lights were seen flickering on the height. Little by little they increased in number and in size, until four or five camp fires lit up with a ruddy glow the sparse vegetation which grew among the rocks. "This is very strange if their guide is still with them," said Jean Oullier. "However, as they are certain to go by the Ragot crossways in any case, take your men there, Guérin," he said to the Chouan, who by this time had returned to his side. "Very good," said the latter. "If they continue their way, you know what you have to do; if, on the contrary, they have really bivouacked up there, you can let them take their ease beside their fires. It is useless to attack them." "Why so?" asked Joseph Picaut. Thus directly questioned as to his own order, Jean Oullier was forced to reply. "Because," he said, "it is a crime to uselessly expose the lives of brave men." "Say rather--" "What?" demanded the old keeper, violently. "Say 'Because my masters, the nobles whose servant I am, no longer want the lives of those brave men.' Say that, and you'll tell the truth, Jean Oullier." "Who dares to say that Jean Oullier lies?" asked the wolf-keeper, frowning. "I!" said Joseph Picaut. Jean Oullier set his teeth, but contained himself. He seemed resolved to have neither friendship nor quarrel with the man.