guided the gendarmes at Donnay.  Lanoe, in a great fright, obeyed, but Lefebre could not come before afternoon; at Noron they found Mme. Acquet in an inn to which she had dragged herself.  The poor woman was in a fever, and almost raving she told Lefebre that she had no money to give him; that the gendarmes had been to Donnay; that the man who showed them the way was probably one of Allain’s companions, but that she feared nothing and was going there to bring back the money.

Lefebre tried to calm her, but when he left after half an hour’s talk, she tried Lanoe, begging him to take her back to Donnay; he resisted strongly, not wanting to hear any more of the affair, but at last he softened at her despair, but swore that now he had had enough of it, and would leave her at La Bijude.  She agreed to all, climbed on the horse, and taking Lanoe round the waist as before, her dripping garments clinging to her shivering form, she started again for Donnay.  When passing Villeneuve, a farm belonging to her brother Bonnoeil she saw a group of women gesticulating excitedly; the farmer Truffault came up and in response to her anxious enquiries, replied: 

“A misfortune has taken place; the gendarmes have been to the Buquets, and taken the father, mother and eldest son.  Joseph, who hid himself, is alone and very unhappy.”

The farmer added that he had just sent his boy to Falaise to inform Mme. de Combray of the event.  Mme. Acquet got off her horse, drew Truffault aside and questioned him in a low voice.  When she returned to Lanoe she was as white as a wax candle.  “I am lost,” she said, “Joseph Buquet will denounce me.”

Then, with a steady look, speaking to herself:  “I could also, in my turn denounce Allain, seeing that he is an outlaw, but where should I say I had met him?” She seemed most uneasy, not knowing what to do.  Then she hinted that she must go back to Falaise.  But Lanoe was inflexible, he swore he would go no further, and that she could apply to the farmer if she wanted to.  And giving his horse the rein he went off at a trot, leaving her surrounded by the peasants, who silently gazed in wondering consternation at the daughter of “their lady” covered with mud, wild-eyed, her arms swinging and her whole appearance so hopeless and forlorn as to awaken pity in the hardest heart.

The same evening the lawyer Lefebre, learned on reaching home, that Mme. de Combray had sent her gardener to ask him to come to her immediately in the Rue du Tripot.  But worn out, he threw himself on his bed and slept soundly till some one knocked at his door about one in the morning.  It was the gardener again, who was so insistent that Lefebre decided to go with him in spite of fatigue.  He found the Marquise wild with anxiety.  Truffault’s boy had told her of the arrest of the Buquets, and she had not gone to bed, expecting to see the gendarmes appear; her only idea was to fly to Tournebut and