Though he had
lived all his life in the now famous village of Echanbroignes, he had
in his disposition, much of the stubborn self-dependence of the early
republicans; and he did not relish his position, sitting in the back-
ground as a humble hanger-on in the family of a nobleman and an
aristocrat. He was, however, unable to help himself; his sons were
Vendeans; his daughter was just going to marry the confidential follower
of the Vendean Commander-in-Chief; and he himself had been seen fighting
for La Vendee: there he sat, therefore, quiet, though hardly happy,
between his two stalwart sons, with his thin hair brushed over his
forehead, and his huge swarthy hands crossed on his knees before him.
The marriage ceremonies were soon performed: and then Henri and Chapeau,
each in their turn, led their brides from the altar; and all went on as
quietly in the one room which they occupied, as though nothing beyond
their daily occupations had occurred.
"God bless you, my children!" said the old Marquis, "this is but a sad
wedding; but it is useless to regret the happy times which are gone, it
seems for ever.
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