e 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.

Licquet had taken a fortnight to study the affair. His only clues were
Flierle's ambiguous replies and the Buquets' cautious confessions, but
during the years that he had eagerly devoted to detective work as an
amateur, he had laid up a good store of suspicions. The failure of the
gendarmes at Tournebut had convinced him that this old manor-house, so
peaceful of aspect, hid terrible secrets, and that its occupants had
arranged within it inaccessible retreats. Then he changed his tactics.
Mme. de Combray and Bonnoeil had gone in perfect confidence to spend
the afternoon at Gaillon; when they returned to Tournebut in the evening
they were suddenly stopped by a detachment of gendarmes posted across
the road. They were obliged to give their names; the officer showed a
warrant, and they all returned to the chateau, which was occupied by
soldiers. The Marquise protested indignantly against the invasion of her
house, but was forced to be present at a search that was begun
immediately and lasted all the evening. Towards midnight she and her son
were put into a carriage with two gendarmes and taken under escort to
Rouen, where, at dawn, they were thrown into the Conciergerie of the
Palais de Jus