They were all well mounted, for they rode the best
horses from the stables of Durbelliere: the old Marquis would have
blushed to have given less than the best to the service of his King.
Chapeau was peculiarly elated at the prospect of his day's work; but his
joy was not wholly professional; for Jacques now accounted himself a
soldier by profession. He had another reason for the more than ordinary
gaiety with which he trotted on towards Echanbroignes. There was there
a certain smith, named Michael Stein, who had two stalwart sons, whom
Jacques burnt to enrol in his loyal band of warriors; this smith had
also one daughter, Annot Stein, who, in the eyes of Jacques Chapeau,
combined every female charm; she was young and rosy; she had soft hair
and bright eyes; she could dance all night, and was known to possess in
her on right some mysterious little fortune, left to her by nobody knew
what grandfather or grandmother, and amounting, so said report, to the
comfortable sum of five hundred francs. When Chapeau had risen to some
high military position, a field-marshal's baton, or the gold-laced cap
of a serjeant-major, with whom could he share his honours better than
with his dear little friend, Annot Stein? Jacques wanted her advice upon
this subject, and he therefore rejoiced greatly that the path of duty
was leading him this morning to Echanbroignes.
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