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Updated: October 27, 2024
The Captain was to wait at the door of his inn and follow Mme. Acquet when he saw her pass with the gendarme. She only appeared at ten at night, and they walked separately as far as Vaucelles. Langelley kept them waiting, but he arrived at last on a borrowed horse; the Captain had got a post-horse; as for the nephew, Delaitre, and the servant, they had gone back the evening before to Rouen.
"And you, madame, have the goodness to advance and raise your veil." The veiled lady obeyed. "My mother!" cried Amelie, but in a voice so choked that only those near her heard the words. "Madame de Montrevel!" murmured the audience. At that moment the first gendarme appeared at the door, then the second. After him came the prisoners, but not in the same order as before.
The man summoned stepped towards the sergeant, and quietly submitted to being taken by the arm, for his hands were fastened. Bouzille winked knowingly at the gendarme, now his sole remaining confidant, and remarked with satisfaction: "Good luck! We are getting on to-day!
Cruchot took that person beside him on the seat of a wagon, behind two mules, and drove away. Ah Cho was glad to be out in the sunshine. He sat beside the gendarme and beamed. He beamed more ardently than ever when he noted the mules headed south toward Atimaono. Undoubtedly Schemmer had sent for him to be brought back. Schemmer wanted him to work. Very well, he would work well.
"Cochepaille, you have, near the bend in your left arm, a date stamped in blue letters with burnt powder; the date is that of the landing of the Emperor at Cannes, March 1, 1815; pull up your sleeve!" Cochepaille pushed up his sleeve; all eyes were focused on him and on his bare arm. A gendarme held a light close to it; there was the date.
"Yes, dear." "When the cannon cease, I shall fall asleep. Listen! what is that?" "A blackbird singing in the pear-tree." "And what is that that sound of galloping? Look out and see, Helen." "It is a gendarme riding fast towards the Rhine." That evening Dorothy Marche stood on the terrace in the moonlight waving her plumed fan and listening to the orchestra from the hamlet of Saint-Lys.
Hunterleys stepped out and made his way towards his room. Arrived there, he was brought to a sudden standstill. A gendarme was stationed outside. "What the mischief are you doing here?" Hunterleys demanded. The man saluted. "By orders of the Director of Police, monsieur." "But that is my room," Hunterleys protested. "I wish to enter." "No one is permitted to enter, monsieur," the man replied.
"Isidore Muset, gendarme, deposes that he was called to the house about three o'clock in the morning, and found some twenty or thirty persons at the gateway, endeavoring to gain admittance. Forced it open, at length, with a bayonet not with a crowbar. Had but little difficulty in getting it open, on account of its being a double or folding gate, and bolted neither at bottom not top.
"Well, then, we will go as far as we can; and I will assist you. Perhaps we may find the second, who, I understand, obtained a map of the fortress by some means or other." We at once perceived that we were discovered. He afterwards told us that the body of a gendarme had been found in the wood, no doubt murdered by the prisoners, and that the body was stripped naked.
"I am going to give you my best room," he said, "but first I have to give a receipt to the gendarme, and to enter you in my book." Thereupon he took down his huge, greasy register, and wrote the name of Jacques de Boiscoran beneath that of Trumence Cheminot, a vagabond who had just been arrested for having broken into a garden. It was all over.
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