Laurence had chosen the mid-lent day for their purpose because it enabled her to give her servants a holiday and so get them out of the way.  The usual masquerade drew the peasantry to the town and no one was at work in the fields.  Chance made its calculations with as much cleverness as Mademoiselle de Cinq-Cygne made hers.  The uneasiness of Monsieur and Madame d’Hauteserre at the idea of keeping eleven hundred thousand francs in gold in a lonely chateau on the borders of a forest was likely to be so great that their sons advised they should know nothing about it.  The secret of the expedition was therefore confined to Gothard, Michu, Laurence, and the four gentlemen.

After much consultation it seemed possible to put forty-eight thousand francs in a long sack on the crupper of each of their horses.  Three trips would therefore bring the whole.  It was agreed to send all the servants, whose curiosity might be troublesome, to Troyes to see the shows.  Catherine, Marthe, and Durieu, who could be relied on, stayed at home in charge of the house.  The other servants were glad of their holiday and started by daybreak.  Gothard, assisted by Michu, saddled the horses as soon as they were gone, and the party started by way of the gardens to reach the forest.  Just as they were mounting—­for the park gate was so low on the garden side that they led their horses until they were through it—­old Beauvisage, the farmer at Bellache, happened to pass.

“There!” cried Gothard, “I hear some one.”

“Oh, it is only I,” said the worthy man, coming toward them.  “Your servant, gentleman; are you off hunting, in spite of the new decrees? I don’t complain of you; but do take care! though you have friends you have also enemies.”

“Oh, as for that,” said the elder Hauteserre, smiling, “God grant that our hunt may be lucky to-day,—­if so, you will get your masters back again.”

These words, to which events were destined to give a totally different meaning, earned a severe look from Laurence.  The elder Simeuse was confident that Malin would restore Gondreville for an indemnity.  These rash youths were determined to do exactly the contrary of what the Marquis de Chargeboeuf had advised.  Robert, who shared these hopes, was thinking of them when he gave utterance to the fatal words.

“Not a word of this, old friend,” said Michu to Beauvisage, waiting behind the others to lock the gate.

It was one of those fine mornings in March when the air is dry, the earth pure, the sky clear, and the atmosphere a contradiction to the leafless trees; the season was so mild that the eye caught glimpses here and there of verdure.

“We are seeking treasure when all the while you are the real treasure of our house, cousin,” said the elder Simeuse, gaily.

Laurence was in front, with a cousin on each side of her.  The d’Hauteserres were behind, followed by Michu.  Gothard had gone forward to clear the way.