“Marie Lambrequin has come to life!” cried Marche-a-Terre, proclaiming by his manner that all other interests were of no account beside this great piece of news.
“I’m not surprised,” said Pille-Miche, “he took the sacrament so often; the good God belonged to him.”
“Ha! ha!” observed Mene-a-Bien, “that didn’t stand him in anything at his death. He hadn’t received absolution before the affair at La Pelerine. He had cheapened Goguelu’s daughter, and was living in mortal sin. The Abbe Gudin said he’d have to roam round two months as a ghost before he could come to life. We saw him pass us,--he was pale, he was cold, he was thin, he smelt of the cemetery.”
“And his Reverence says that if a ghost gets hold of a living man he can force him to be his companion,” said the fourth Chouan.
The grotesque appearance of this last speaker drew Marche-a-Terre from the pious reflections he had been making on the accomplishment of this miracle of coming to life which, according to the Abbe Gudin would happen to every true defender of religion and the king.
“You see, Galope-Chopine,” he said to the fourth man gravely, “what comes of omitting even the smallest duty commanded by our holy religion. It is a warning to us, given by Saint Anne of Auray, to be rigorous with ourselves for the slightest sin. Your cousin Pille-Miche has asked the Gars to give you the surveillance of Fougeres, and the Gars consents, and you’ll be well paid--but you know with what flour we bake a traitor’s bread.”
“And you know why I tell you that. Some say you like cider and gambling, but you can’t play heads or tails now, remember; you must belong to us only, or--”
“By your leave, Monsieur Marche-a-Terre, cider and stakes are two good things which don’t hinder a man’s salvation.”
“If my cousin commits any folly,” said Pille-Miche, “it will be out of ignorance.”
“In any way he commits it, if harm comes,” said Marche-a-Terre, in a voice which made the arched roof tremble, “my gun won’t miss him. You will answer for him to me,” he added, turning to Pille-Miche; “for if he does wrong I shall take it out on the thing that fills your goatskin.”
“But, Monsieur Marche-a-Terre, with all due respect,” said Galope-Chopine, “haven’t you sometimes taken a counterfeit Chouan for a real one.”