these “gentlemen,” not seeing a child lying in a closed bed, had taken from a tin box some “yellow coins” which they divided, and the inference drawn was that the gendarmes had plundered a traveller whom they knew to be well-supplied, and sure of impunity since they could always plead a case of rebellion, had got rid of him by murder.  This was the sense of the letter sent to Caffarelli by the Mayor of Luc on the evening of the 8th.  The next morning Foison appeared at La Delivrande to draw up the report.  When Boullee asked him a few questions about the murder, he answered in so arrogant and menacing a tone as to make any enquiry impossible.  Putting on a bold face, he admitted that he had been present at the scene of the crime.  He said that while he was patrolling the road to Luc with four of his men, two individuals appeared whom he asked for their papers.  One of them immediately fled, and the other discharged his pistols; the gendarmes seized him, and in spite of his desperate resistance succeeded in bringing him down.  He stayed dead on the ground, “having been struck several times during the struggle.”

“But his pistols were still loaded,” said some one.

Foison made no reply.

“But his hands were tied,” said the mayor.

Foison tried to deny it.

“Here are the bands,” said Boullee, drawing from his pocket the ribbon taken from the dead man’s hands.  And as Captain Mancel, who presided at the interview, remarked that those were indeed the bands used by gendarmes, Foison left the room with more threats, swearing that he owed an account to no one.

The news of the crime had spread with surprising rapidity, and indignation was great wherever it was heard.  In writing to Real, Caffarelli echoed public feeling: 

“How did it happen that four gendarmes were unable to seize a man who had struggled for a long time?  How came it that he was, in a way, mutilated?  Why, after having killed this man, did they leave him there, without troubling to comply with any of the necessary formalities?  Ask these questions, M. le Comte; the public is asking them and finds no answer.  What is the reply, if, moreover, as is said, the person was seized, his hands tightly tied behind his back, and then shot?  What are the terrible consequences to be expected from these facts if they are true?  How will the gendarmes be able to fulfil their duties without fear of being treated as assassins or wild beasts?”

It must be mentioned that as soon as the crime was committed, Foison had gone to Caen and given Pontecoulant the papers found on d’Ache, which contained information as to the political and military situation on the coast of Normandy, and on the possibility of a disembarkation.  Pontecoulant had immediately posted off, and on the morning of the 11th told Fouche verbally of the manner in which Foison and Mme. de Vaubadon had acquitted themselves of their mission.  It remained to be seen how the public would take things,