Max, to do him justice, was never more cool and calm in appearance than when his blood and his ideas were boiling.  No man ever united in a higher degree the qualities which make a great general.  If his career had not been cut short by his captivity at Cabrera, the Emperor would certainly have found him one of those men who are necessary to the success of vast enterprises.  When he entered the room where the hapless victim of all these comic and tragic scenes was still weeping, Max asked the meaning of such distress; seemed surprised, pretended that he knew nothing, and heard, with well-acted amazement, of Flore’s departure.  He questioned Kouski, to obtain some light on the object of this inexplicable journey.

“Madame said like this,” Kouski replied, “—­that I was to tell monsieur she had taken twenty thousand francs in gold from his drawer, thinking that monsieur wouldn’t refuse her that amount as wages for the last twenty-two years.”

“Wages?” exclaimed Rouget.

“Yes,” replied Kouski.  “Ah!  I shall never come back,” she said to Vedie as she drove away.  “Poor Vedie, who is so attached to monsieur, remonstrated with madame.  ‘No, no,’ she answered, ’he has no affection for me; he lets his nephew treat me like the lowest of the low’; and she wept—­oh! bitterly.”

“Eh! what do I care for Philippe?” cried the old man, whom Max was watching.  “Where is Flore? how can we find out where she is?”

“Philippe, whose advice you follow, will help you,” said Max coldly.

“Philippe?” said the old man, “what has he to do with the poor child?  There is no one but you, my good Max, who can find Flore.  She will follow you—­you could bring her back to me—­”

“I don’t wish to oppose Monsieur Bridau,” observed Max.

“As for that,” cried Rouget, “if that hinders you, he told me he meant to kill you.”

“Ah!” exclaimed Gilet, laughing, “we will see about it!”

“My friend,” said the old man, “find Flore, and I will do all she wants of me.”

“Some one must have seen her as she passed through the town,” said Maxence to Kouski.  “Serve dinner; put everything on the table, and then go and make inquiries from place to place.  Let us know, by dessert, which road Mademoiselle Brazier has taken.”

This order quieted for a time the poor creature, who was moaning like a child that has lost its nurse.  At this moment Rouget, who hated Max, thought his tormentor an angel.  A passion like that of this miserable old man for Flore is astonishingly like the emotions of childhood.  At six o’clock, the Pole, who had merely taken a walk, returned to announce that Flore had driven towards Vatan.

“Madame is going back to her own people, that’s plain,” said Kouski.

“Would you like to go to Vatan to-night?” said Max.  “The road is bad, but Kouski knows how to drive, and you’ll make your peace better to-night than to-morrow morning.”