"And were you not wounded, Cathelineau?" asked the old gentleman.
"No, M. le Marquis, thank God! I was not."
"Nor Foret?"
"No, M. le Marquis."
"But were there many wounded?" said Agatha.
"Ah! Mademoiselle, there were--many, very many!"
"I knew there must have been," said Marie, shuddering.
"We cannot have war without the horrors of war," said Henri. "It is
better, is it not, Cathelineau, that some of us should fall, than that
all of us should be slaves?"
"A thousand times, M. Larochejaquelin ten thousand times!" said he, with
a return of that determined vigour with which he had addressed his
fellow-townsmen the day before.
"Yes, you are right, ten thousand times better! and, Marie, you would
not be your brother's sister if you did not think so," said Henri; "but
you do think so, and so does Agatha, though she cries so fast."
"I am not crying, Henri," said Agatha, removing her handkerchief from
her eyes, which belied her assertion; "but one cannot but think of all
the misery which is coming on us: were there--were there any women
wounded in the battle?"
There were, Mademoiselle; but those who were so, never complained; and
those who were killed will never have need to complain again.
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