The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon

“Have you seen him?”

“As I see you now.”

“What kind of man is he?”

“A handsome young man about twenty-six or twenty-eight years old.”

“And when is he getting here?”

“An hour or two after me, probably.”

“Have you alerted our men along the highway?”

“Yes. He will be able to pass freely.”

“Where is the Republican vanguard?”

“In La Roche-Bernard.”

“How many men are there?”

“Approximately one thousand.”

At that moment they heard a second horse galloping up. “Oh!” said Branche-d’Or, “can that be him already? That’s impossible!”

“No, because the man arriving now is coming from Vannes.”

The second horseman stopped by the door and entered as had the first. Although he was wrapped in a large coat, Cadoudal recognized him immediately. “Is that you, Coeur-de-Roi?” he asked.

“Yes, General.”

“Where are you coming from?”

“From Vannes, where you sent me to keep an eye on the Blues.”

“Well, what are they doing?”

“They are starving, and to get some food, General Harty is planning to steal our stores in Grand-Champ. The general himself will lead the expedition, and so they can move rapidly, the column will be made up of only one hundred men.”

“Are you tired, Coeur-de-Roi?”

“Never, General.”

“And how about your horse?”

“He has run hard but can surely cover three or four leagues more without collapsing. With two hours of rest.…”

“Two hours of rest and a double ration of oats, and then your horse will need to cover six leagues!”

“He can do it, General.”

“In two hours you will leave, and you must give the order in my name to evacuate the village of Grand-Champ at daybreak.”

Cadoudal paused for a moment and turned to listen. “Ah,” he said. “This time it must be him. I hear a horse galloping up on the La Roche-Bernard road.”

“It’s him,” said Branche-d’Or.

“Who?” asked Coeur-de-Roi.

“Someone the general is expecting.”

“Now, my friends, please leave me alone,” said Cadoudal. “You, Coeur-de-Roi, get to Grand-Champ as quickly as possible. You, Branche-d’Or, wait in the courtyard with thirty men ready to carry a message to all parts of the country. I trust you can arrange to have the best possible supper for two brought here to me.”

“Are you going out, General?”

“No, I’m simply going to meet the person who’s arriving. Quickly, go to the courtyard and stay out of sight!”

Cadoudal appeared on the threshold of the front door just as a horseman, bringing his mount to a stop, was looking around uncertainly.

“He’s right here, monsieur,” said George.

“Who is right here?” the horseman asked.

“The man you are looking for.”

“How did you guess that I’m looking for someone?”

“That is not difficult to see.”

“And the man I’m looking for.…”

“Is George Cadoudal. That is not hard to guess.”

“Huh,” responded the young man in surprise.

He jumped down from his horse and began to tether it.

“Oh, just throw the bridle over his neck,” said Cadoudal, “and don’t worry about him. You will find him here when you need him. Nothing ever gets lost in Brittany. You are on loyal ground.” And then, showing him the door, he said, “Please do me the honor of entering this humble hut, Monsieur Roland de Montrevel. I can offer you no other palace for tonight.”

However much Roland was master of himself, he was unable to hide his astonishment from George. More from the light of the fire that some invisible hand had just stirred up than from the light of the lamp, George could study the young man who was trying in vain to figure out how the person he was looking for, and at, had been notified of his arrival ahead of time. Judging that it would be inappropriate to display his curiosity, Roland sat down on the chair Cadoudal offered and stretched his boots out toward the fire in the fireplace.

“Are these your headquarters?” he asked.

“Yes, Colonel.”

“They are guarded in a strange way, it seems to me,” said Roland, looking around.

“Do you say that,” asked George, “because you didn’t meet a soul on the highway between La Roche-Bernard and here?”