On a certain day of November, 1807, she heard from her cell an unusual tumult in the passages of the prison.  Doors burst open and people called to each other.  There were cries of joy, whispers, exclamations of astonishment or vexation, then long silences, which left the prisoner perplexed.  The next day when Licquet came to visit her she noticed that his face wore a troubled expression.  He was very laconic, mentioned grave events which were preparing, and disappeared like a busy man.  To prisoners everything is a reason for hope, and that night Mme. de Combray gave free course to her illusions.  The following day she received through the woman Delaitre, a short letter from the honest “Captain”—­the man who had saved Mme. Acquet, killed the yellow horse, and whom she called her guardian angel.  The guardian angel wrote only a few words:  “Bonaparte is overthrown; the King is about to land in France; the prisons are opening everywhere.  Write a letter at once to M. d’Ache which he can hand to his Majesty.  I will undertake to forward it to him.”

It is a truly touching fact that the old Marquise, whose energy no fatigue, no moral torture could abate, fainted from happiness on learning of her King’s return.

The event realised all her hopes.  For so many years she had been expecting it from one moment to another, without ever growing discouraged, that a denouement for which she had been prepared so long, seemed quite natural to her, and she immediately made her arrangements for the new life that was about to commence.  She first of all wrote a line of thanks to the “good Delaitre,” promising her protection and assuring him that he should be rewarded for his devotion.  She then wrote to d’Ache a letter overflowing with joy.

“I have reached the pinnacle of my happiness, my dear Vicomte,” she wrote, “which is that of all France.  I rejoice in your glory.  M. Delaitre has rendered me the greatest services, and during the past two months has been constantly journeying in my behalf.  His wife, my companion in misfortune, has turned towards me his interest in the unhappy, and he has sent me a message informing me of the great events which are to put an end to all our troubles, advising me to write a letter to the King and send it to you to present to him.  This is a bright idea, and compensates for the fact that my son is not lucky enough to be in his proper place, as we desired and planned.  Your dear brother in chains is only supported by the thought of your glory.  I do not know how to speak to a king so great by reason of his courage and virtue.  I have allowed my heart to speak, and I count upon you to obtain the favour of a visit from him at Tournebut.  The prisons are open everywhere....  I have borne my imprisonment courageously for three years, but fell ill on hearing the great news.  You will let me know in time if I am to have the happiness of entertaining the King.  It is very bold of me to ask if such a favour