Chesnel would have brought the Almighty to intervene if he had had the power.  He did not wait for an answer; he left Camusot and fled like a deer towards du Croisier’s house.  Camusot, meanwhile, bidden to reveal the notary’s confidences, was at once assailed with, “Was I not right, dear?”—­a wifely formula used on all occasions, but rather more vehemently when the fair speaker is in the wrong.  By the time they reached home, Camusot had admitted the superiority of his partner in life, and appreciated his good fortune in belonging to her; which confession, doubtless, was the prelude of a blissful night.

Chesnel met his foes in a body as they left du Croisier’s house, and began to fear that du Croisier had gone to bed.  In his position he was compelled to act quickly, and any delay was a misfortune.

“In the King’s name!” he cried, as the man-servant was closing the hall door.  He had just brought the King on the scene for the benefit of an ambitious little official, and the word was still on his lips.  He fretted and chafed while the door was unbarred; then, swift as a thunderbolt, dashed into the ante-chamber, and spoke to the servant.

“A hundred crowns to you, young man, if you can wake Mme. du Croisier and send her to me this instant.  Tell her anything you like.”

Chesnel grew cool and composed as he opened the door of the brightly lighted drawing-room, where du Croisier was striding up and down.  For a moment the two men scanned each other, with hatred and enmity, twenty years’ deep, in their eyes.  One of the two had his foot on the heart of the house of d’Esgrignon; the other, with a lion’s strength, came forward to pluck it away.

“Your humble servant, sir,” said Chesnel.  “Have you made the charge?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When was it made?”

“Yesterday.”

“Have any steps been taken since the warrant of arrest was issued?”

“I believe so.”

“I have come to treat with you.”

“Justice must take its course, nothing can stop it, the arrest has been made.”

“Never mind that, I am at your orders, at your feet.”  The old man knelt before du Croisier, and stretched out his hands entreatingly.

“What do you want?  Our lands, our castle?  Take all; withdraw the charge; leave us nothing but life and honor.  And over and besides all this, I will be your servant; command and I will obey.”

Du Croisier sat down in an easy-chair and left the old man to kneel.

“You are not vindictive,” pleaded Chesnel; “you are good-hearted, you do not bear us such a grudge that you will not listen to terms.  Before daylight the young man ought to be at liberty.”

“The whole town knows that he has been arrested,” returned du Croisier, enjoying his revenge.

“It is a great misfortune, but as there will be neither proofs nor trial, we can easily manage that.”

Du Croisier reflected.  He seemed to be struggling with self-interest; Chesnel thought that he had gained a hold on his enemy through the great motive of human action.  At that supreme moment Mme. du Croisier appeared.