Mme. d’Abrantes, with her usual veracity, describes the luxurious furniture and huge lamps in the “labyrinths of Tournebut, of which one must, as it were, have a plan, so as not to lose one’s way.”  She shows us Le Chevalier, crucifix in hand, haranguing the assailants in the wood of Quesnay (although he was in Paris that day to prove an alibi), and gravely adds, “I know some one who was in the coach and who alone survived, the seven other travellers having been massacred and their bodies left on the road.”  Now there was neither coach nor travellers, and no one was killed!

M. de la Sicotiere’s mistakes are still stranger.  At the time that he was preparing his great work on “Frotte and the Norman Insurrections,” he learned from M. Gustave Bord that I had some special facts concerning Mme. de Combray, and wrote to ask me about them.  I sent him a resume of Moisson’s story, and asked him to verify its correctness.  And on that he went finely astray.

Mme. de Combray had two residences besides her house at Rouen; one at Aubevoye, where she had lived for a long while, the other thirty leagues away, at Donnay, in the department of Orne, where she no longer went, as her son-in-law had settled himself there.  Two towers have the same name of Tournebut; the one at Aubevoye is ours; the other, some distance from Donnay, did not belong to Mme. de Combray.

Convinced solely by the assertions of mm.  Le Prevost and Bourdon that in 1804 the Chateau of Aubevoye and its tower no longer existed, and that Mme. de Combray occupied Donnay at that date, M. de la Sicotiere naturally mistook one Tournebut for the other, did not understand a single word of Moisson’s story, which he treated as a chimera, and in his book acknowledges my communications in this disdainful note: 

“Confusion has arisen in many minds between the two Tournebuts, so different, however, and at such a distance from each other, and has given birth to many strange and romantic legends; inaccessible retreats arranged for outlaws and bandits in the old tower, nocturnal apparitions, innocent victims paying with their lives the misfortune of having surprised the secrets of these terrible guests....”

It is pleasant to see M. de la Sicotiere point out the confusion he alone experienced.  But there is better to come!  Here is a writer who gives us in two large volumes the history of Norman Chouannerie.  There is little else spoken of in his book than disguises, false names, false papers, ambushes, kidnappings, attacks on coaches, subterranean passages, prisons, escapes, child spies and female captains!  He states himself that the affair of the Forest of Quesnay was “tragic, strange and mysterious!” And at the same time he condemns as “strange” and “romantic” the simplest of all these adventures—­that of Moisson!  He scoffs at his hiding-places in the roofs of the old chateau, and it is precisely in the roofs of the old chateau that the police found the famous refuge which could hold forty men with ease.  He calls the retreats arranged for the outlaws and bandits “legendary,” at the same time that he gives two pages to the enumeration of the holes, vaults, wells, pits, grottoes and caverns in which these same bandits and outlaws found safety!  So that M. de la Sicotiere seems to be laughing at himself!