They were breakfasting towards noon when a non-commissioned marine officer, accompanied by an escort of two men, entered the room.  He went straight up to Delaitre, asked his name, and observing his agitation, called upon him to show his papers.  These he took possession of after a brief examination, and then ordered the soldiers to put Delaitre under arrest.

The officer, an amiable and talkative little man, continually excused himself to Mme. Acquet for the annoyance he was causing her.  Captain Delaitre, he said, had left his ship without any authority, and it had been pointed out, moreover, that he had willingly engaged in smuggling while pretending to be trading along the coast.  He did not commit the indiscretion of inquiring the lady’s name, nor what reason she had for scouring the country in company of a ship’s captain; but he carefully gave her to understand that she must be detained until they got to Rouen, whither Delaitre would be escorted to receive a reprimand from the commandant of the port.  Mme. Acquet was convinced that it was nothing but a misunderstanding which would be cleared up at Rouen, and troubled very little about the incident; and as she was worn out with fatigue, she expressed a wish to spend that night and the following day at Pont-Audemer.  The little officer consented with alacrity, and whilst appearing only to keep an eye on Delaitre, he never for an instant lost sight of the young woman, whose attitudes, gestures and appearance he scrutinised with malicious eyes.  It was Licquet, as we have already guessed, who in his haste to know the result of the false Delaitre’s adventures, had dressed himself up in a borrowed uniform and come to receive his new victim.  He was full of forethought for her; he took her in a carriage from Pont-Audemer to Bourg-Achard, where he allowed her to rest.  On the morning of the seventh they left Bourg-Achard and arrived at Rouen before midday.  The kindly officer was so persuasive that Mme. Acquet offered no resistance nor recriminations when she was taken to the Conciergerie, where she was entered under the name of Rosalie Bourdon, doubtless the one under which she had travelled.  She appeared quite indifferent to all that went on around her.  On entering this prison, where she knew her mother was, she showed absolutely no emotion.  She remained in this state of resigned lassitude for two days.  Licquet, who came to see her several times, endeavoured to keep her under the impression that her imprisonment had no other cause than Delaitre’s infringement of the maritime regulations; he even took the precaution of pretending not to know her name.