he
latter did not conceal his displeasure, and thought it strange that his
own gendarmes should be ordered to proceed with criminal cases and to
make arrests of which they neglected even to inform him. Licquet states
that after "looking black at him, Caffarelli laughed till he cried" over
the stories of the false Captain Delaitre and the false inspector of
taxes. It is probable that the story was well told; but the Prefect of
Calvados was none the less annoyed at the unceremonious procedure, as he
testified a little later with some blustering. Licquet, moreover, was
not deceived: on his return from Caen, he wrote: "Behold, I have
quarrelled with the Prefect of Calvados."

However, he cared very little about it. It had been tacitly decreed that
the robbery at Quesnay should be judged by a special court at Rouen.
Licquet became the organiser and stage-manager of the proceedings. At
the end of 1807 he had under lock and key thirty-eight prisoners whom he
questioned incessantly, and kept in a state of uncertainty as to whether
he meant to confront them with each other. But he declared himself
dissatisfied. D'Ache's absence spoiled his joy. He quite understood that
without the latter, his triumph would be incomplete, his work would
remain unfinished, and it was doubtless due to this torturing obsession
that he owed the idea, as cruel as it was ingenious, of a new drama of
which the old Marquise de Combray was again the victim.

On a certain day of November, 1807, she heard from her cell an unusual
tumult in the passages of the prison. Doors burst open and people called
to each other. There were cries of joy, whispers, exclamations of
astonishment or vexation, then long silences, which left the prisoner
perplexed. The next day when Licquet came to visit her she noticed that
his face wore a troubled expression. He was very laconic, mentioned
grave events which were preparing, and disappeared like a busy man. To
prisoners everything is a reason for hope, and that night Mme. de
Combray gave free course to her illusions. The following day she
received through the woman Delaitre, a short letter from the honest
"Captain"--the man who had saved Mme. Acquet, killed the yellow horse,
and whom she called her guardian angel. The guardian angel wrote only a
few words: "Bonaparte is overthrown; the King is about to land in
France; the prisons are opening everywhere. Write a letter at once to M.
d'Ache which he can hand to his Majesty. I