"And then?"
"Have you seen my notice?"
"Yes. Well?"
"He will be shot."
"Mercy again. He must be guillotined.
"For my part," said Gauvain, "I am for military death."
"And I," replied Cimourdain, "am for revolutionary death."
He looked Gauvain in the face, and said,—
"Why did you release those nuns of the convent of Saint-Marc-le-Blanc?"
"I am not making war on women," replied Gauvain.
"These women hate the people. And for hatred a woman is equal to ten men. Why did you refuse to send all that flock of old fanatic priests taken at Louvigné, to the Revolutionary tribunal?"
"I am not making war on old men."
"An old priest is worse than a young one. Rebellion is more dangerous when preached by white hairs. People have faith in wrinkles. No false pity, Gauvain. Regicides are liberators. Keep your eye on the tower of the temple."
"The tower of the temple! I would release the dauphin. I am not making war on children."
Cimourdain's eye grew stern.
"Gauvain, know that it is necessary to make war on a woman when her name is Marie Antoinette, on an old man when his name is Pope Pius VI., and on a child, when his name is Louis Capet."
"My master, I am not a politician."
"Try not to be dangerous. Why, when the post of Cossé was attacked, and the rebel Jean Treton, driven back and lost, rushed alone, sword in hand, on the whole column, did you cry, 'Open the ranks—let him pass?'"
"Because one does not set fifteen hundred men to kill a single man."
"Why, at the Cailleterie d'Astillé, when you saw that your soldiers were going to kill the Vendéan, Joseph Bézier, who was wounded and dragging himself along, did you cry: 'Forward, march! I will attend to him!' and shoot your pistol into the air?"
"Because one does not shoot a man who is down."
"And you did wrong. Both are to-day chiefs of bands;
