The appearance of Henri's troop was very singular; every man wore round his neck and round his waist a red cotton handkerchief; this costume had been adopted to preserve Larochejaquelin from the especial danger of being made the butt of republican marksmen.
There was now no especial mouchoir rouge among them.

They certainly had a frightful appearance, as they hurried through the streets with their bayonets fixed, dripping with mud and water, and conspicuous with their red necks and red waists; at least so thought the republicans, for they offered very little opposition to them.
Henri had just time to see that his friends had entered the town by the gate on the Doue road, but he did not wait to speak to them.

The republican soldiers were escaping from the town in the opposite direction, and he could not resist the temptation of following them.

He was at the head of his men, just passing over the Loire by a wooden bridge, called the bridge of the Green Cross, and having possessed himself of a sword in his passage through the town, was making good use of it, when a dragoon turned suddenly round, and fired a pistol almost in his face: near as the man was to him, in his hurry he missed him, and the bullet merely grazed Henri's cheek, without even raising the skin.
"Ah, bungler," said Henri, raising his sword, "you are no good for either King or nation," and he struck the unfortunate man dead at his feet.
Not only the soldiers, but the inhabitants of the town were escaping by hundreds over the bridge, and Henri saw that if he pursued them farther, he must, sooner or later, find himself surrounded and overpowered by numbers; he returned, therefore, and destroyed the bridge, so as to prevent the return of the soldiers who had fled in their first panic, and also to prevent any more of the inhabitants from leaving their homes.
"God has certainly fought on our side today," said he to one of his Mends: "with barely two hundred men, all dripping like drowned rats, we have made our way, almost without opposition, through the town, and thousands of soldiers are even yet flying before us." "Ah! M.Henri," said the little Chevalier, "it is a great honour to fight for one's King; one fears nothing then: a single royalist should always drive before him ten republicans." Henri now returned and joined de Lescure, who was in possession of the town, though the citadel was still in the hands of General Quetineau, who held the command of the garrison.

It was not till the cousins had embraced each other, that Henri saw that de Lescure was wounded.
"Yes," said de Lescure, "I have at length acquired the privilege of shedding my blood in the cause; but it is only a broken arm; Victorine will have a little trouble with me when I return to Clisson." "And Adolphe, my brave Adolphe, you are wounded, too ?" said Henri.
Denot muttered something, and turned away; he did not dare to look his friends in the face.
"He envies me my honour," said de Lescure; "but it might have been his chance as well as mine, for he was not two feet from me when I was wounded." This was true, for de Lescure had been struck after Denot had crossed the bridge with the other men.
A flag of truce was now sent out by General Quetineau to the royalists, with a proposal that he would give up the castle, and lay down his arms, on being allowed to march out with all his men, and take the road to Angers; but this proposition was not acceded to.
"No!" said de Lescure to the General's messenger: "tell M.Quetineau that the Vendeans cannot accede to those terms--we cannot allow his soldiers to march to Angers, and to return within a week to inflict new cruelties on our poor peasants.