250 BLANCHE DE BEAULIEU. 
decided advantage. The royalists began to give way ; rank after 
rank fell before their powerful enemies. The priest, perceiving 
this, gave a sign, and in an instant every torch was extinguished, 
and the warfare carried on in total darkness. In the midst of the 
scene of carnage and disorder which ensued, the words “ Mercy! 
mercy !"" were pronounced in a heart-rending voice at the feet of 
Marceau, who was in the act of striking the soldier now clinging to 
his knees. He paused. It was a young Vendéen, disarmed, who 
sought to escape from this terrible conflict. ‘‘ Mercy !” he repeat- 
ed, ‘‘ for the love of heaven, save me!” ‘The General drew him a 
few paces from the field of battle, to avoid the notice of his soldiers, 
but was soon forced to stop: the stranger had fainted. Marceau 
felt surprised at this excess of terror in a soldier, but he neverthe- 
less hastened to assist him; and on unbuckling his helmet, to give 
him air, he discovered by the long flowing tresses which escaped 
that it was a woman he had saved! Not an instant was to be lost. 
The orders of the Convention were strict: ‘‘ Every Vendéen found 
carrying arms, or joining an assemblage, be their age or sex what it 
would, was to perish on the scaffold.” Placing her under a tree, 
Marceau hastened back to the field of battle. Among the dead he 
distinguished a young republican officer, whose height and size ap- 
peared fo him to correspond with that of the unknown, and, hastily 
despoiling him of his uniform and helmet, he returned to his charge, 
whom the fresh air of the night had nearly restored to conscious- 
ness. “My father! my father!” were her first words, as, partly 
raising herself, she passed her hand rapidly across her brow, as if to 
collect her scattered senses, “‘ I have abandoned him! he is killed !” 
«No, Mad. Blanche,” said a voice from behind her, “ the Marquis 
de Beaulieu lives; he is saved! Vive le Roi!” He who uttered 
these words disappeared like a shadow, but not before Blanche had 
recognized the faithful follower of her house. “ Tinguy ! Tinguy re 
she exclaimed, stretching her arms whence the sound came. “ Si- 
lence !” said Marceau, “ one word will betray you, and then even I 
cannot save you, though I would wish to do so. Put on these 
clothes, and wait here.” He again repaired to the scene of conflict. 
The royalists were entirely routed, and many of them taken pri- 
soners. Giving his troops orders to retire towards Chollet, and 
leaving his colleague in command, he returned to Blanche, whom 
he found ready equipped to follow him. They directed their steps 
towards the high road which traverses the forest, where Marceau’s 
servant awaited him with led horses. Here his embarrassment in- 
creased, for he feared his prisoner would not be able to manage her 
