that attack of the Chouans? To them, fighting is a matter of business,
and I can't see what they expected to gain by this attack. They have
lost at least a hundred men, and we"--he added, screwing up his right
cheek and winking by way of a smile, "have lost only sixty. God's
thunder! I don't understand that sort of speculation. The scoundrels
needn't have attacked us; we might just as well have been allowed to
pass like letters through the post--No, I don't see what good it has
done them to bullet-hole our men," he added, with a sad shake of his
head toward the carts. "Perhaps they only intended to say good-day to
us."

"But they carried off our recruits, commander," said Merle.

"The recruits could have skipped like frogs into the woods at any
time, and we should never have gone after them, especially if those
fellows had fired a single volley," returned Hulot. "No, no, there's
something behind all this." Again he turned and looked at La Pelerine.
"See!" he cried; "see there!"

Though they were now at a long distance from the fatal plateau, they
could easily distinguish Marche-a-Terre and several Chouans who were
again occupying it.

"Double-quick, march!" cried Hulot to his men, "open your compasses
and trot the steeds faster than that! Are your legs frozen?"

These words drove the little troop into a rapid motion.

"There's a mystery, and it's hard to make out," continued Hulot,
speaking to his friends. "God grant it isn't explained by muskets at