had advanced the claims of the royal exchequer; Allain and Lerouge the baker—­who showed entire disinterestedness—­had gone to Donnay, and with great trouble got 1,200 francs from the Buquets; five times Lerouge had gone in a little cart, by appointment, to the forest of Harcourt, where he waited under a large tree near the crossroad till Buquet brought him some money.  In this way Placene received 12,000 francs in crowns, “so coated with mud that his wife was obliged to wash them.”  But Joseph’s relations, who had been arrested when he fled, swore that he alone knew where the rest of the money was buried, and no one could get any more of it.

While at breakfast with the lawyer and Lanoe Mme. Acquet begged the latter to undertake a search.  She believed the money was buried in the field of buckwheat between the Buquets’ house and the walls of the chateau, and wanted Lanoe to dig there, but he refused.  She seemed to have lost her head completely.  She planned to throw herself at the Emperor’s feet imploring his pardon; she talked of recovering the stolen money, returning it to the government, adding to it her “dot,” and leaving France forever.  When she returned in the evening greatly excited, she told the washerwoman of her plans; she dwelt on the idea for three days, and thought she had only to restore the stolen money to guarantee herself against punishment.

Chauvel was on duty.  When he returned on the 19th he brought some news.  Caffarelli was to arrive in Falaise the next day, to interrogate Mme. Acquet.  The night passed in tears and agony.  The poor woman attempted suicide, and Chauvel seized the poison she was about to swallow.  An obscure point is reached here.  Even if Caffarelli’s ease and indifference are admitted, it is hard to believe that he was an active accomplice in the plot; but on the other hand, it is surprising that Mme. Acquet did not fly as soon as she heard of his intended visit, and that she consented to appear before him as if she were sure of finding help and protection.  The interview took place in the house of the mayor, M. de Saint-Leonard, a relative of Mme. de Combray’s, and resembled a family council rather than an examination.  Caffarelli was more paternal than his role of judge warranted, and it was long believed in the family that Mme. de Combray’s remote relationship with the Empress Josephine’s family, which they had been careful not to boast of before, was drawn upon to soften the susceptible prefect.  Whatever the reason, Mme. Acquet left the mayor’s completely reassured, told Mme. Chauvel that she was going away, and took many messages from the good woman to Mme. de Combray, with whom she said she was going to spend several days at Tournebut.  On the 22d she made a bundle of her belongings, and taking the arm of the gendarme, left the washerwoman’s house disguised as a peasant.

Life at Tournebut resumed its usual course after Lefebre’s departure.  Mme. de Combray, satisfied that her daughter was safe, and that the prefect of Calvados even if he suspected her, would never venture to cause her arrest, went fearlessly among her neighbours.  She was not aware that the enquiry had passed from Caffarelli’s hands into those of the prefect of Rouen, and was now managed by a man whose malignity and stubbornness would not be easily discouraged.