and that she knew that lady had been at Versailles, but since then she had heard nothing.  All Monsieur de Lamotte’s questions, his entreaties, prayers, or threats, obtained no other answer.  He went to the lawyer in the rue de Paon, to the schoolmaster, and found the same uncertainty, the same ignorance.  His wife and his son had gone to Versailles, there the clue ended which ought to guide his investigations.  He went to this town; no one could give him any information, the very name of Lamotte was unknown.  He returned to Paris, questioned and examined the people of the quarter, the proprietor of the Hotel de France, where his wife had stayed on her former visit; at length, wearied with useless efforts, he implored help from justice.  Then his complaints ceased; he was advised to maintain a prudent silence, and to await Derues’ return.

The latter thoroughly understood that, having failed to dissipate Monsieur de Lamotte’s fears, there was no longer an instant to lose, and that the pretended private contract of February 12th would not of itself prove the existence of Madame de Lamotte.  This is how he employed the time spent by the unhappy husband in fruitless investigation.

On March 12th, a woman, her face hidden in the hood of her cloak, or “Therese,” as it was then called, appeared in the office of Maitre N-----, a notary at Lyons.  She gave her name as Marie Francoise Perffier, wife of Monsieur Saint-Faust de Lamotte, but separated, as to goods and estate, from him.  She caused a deed to be drawn up, authorising her husband to receive the arrears of thirty thousand livres remaining from the price of the estate of Buisson-Souef, situated near Villeneuve-le-Roi-lez-Sens.  The deed was drawn up and signed by Madame de Lamotte, by the notary, and one of his colleagues.

This woman was Derues.  If we remember that he only arrived at Buisson February 28th, and remained there for some days, it becomes difficult to understand how at that period so long a journey as that from Paris to Lyons could have been accomplished with such rapidity.  Fear must have given him wings.  We will now explain what use he intended to make of it, and what fable, a masterpiece of cunning and of lies, he had invented.

On his arrival in Paris he found a summons to appear before the magistrate of police.  He expected this, and appeared quite tranquil, ready to answer any questions.  Monsieur de Lamotte was present.  It was a formal examination, and the magistrate first asked why he had left Paris.

“Monsieur,” replied Derues, “I have nothing to hide, and none of my actions need fear the daylight, but before replying, I should like to understand my position.  As a domiciled citizen I have a right to require this.  Will you kindly inform me why I have been summoned to appear before you, whether on account of anything personal to myself, or simply to give information as to something which may be within my knowledge?”