The Chouans wanted to pursue them, but Cadoudal, in a voice of thunder, called them back.
"You should not have allowed him to pass," he cried, "but having passed he is free to retreat." The Chouans obeyed with the religious faith they placed in the words of their chief.
"And now," said Cadoudal, "cease firing; no more dead; make prisoners." The Chouans drew together and surrounded the heaps of dead, and the few living men, more or less wounded, who lay among the dead.
Surrendering was still fighting in this fatal war, where on both sides the prisoners were shot--on the one side, because Chouans and Vendeans were considered brigands; on the other, because they knew not where to put the captives.
The Republicans threw their guns away, that they might not be forced to surrender them.

When their captors approached them every cartridge-box was open; every man had fired his last shot.
Cadoudal walked back to Roland.
During the whole of this desperate struggle the young man had remained on the mound.

With his eyes fixed on the battle, his hair damp with sweat, his breast heaving, he waited for the result.

Then, when he saw the day was lost, his head fell upon his hands, and he still sat on, his forehead bowed to the earth.
Cadoudal reached him before he seemed to hear the sound of footsteps.

He touched the young man's shoulder.