Laurence, to whom the agony, fatigue, and tension of all her intellectual faculties had given an unusual color, turned white and fell back almost fainting on a chair. Madame Durieu, Mademoiselle Goujet, and Madame d’Hauteserre sprang to help her, for she was suffocating. She signed to cut the frogging of her habit. “Duped!” said Corentin to Peyrade. “I am certain now they are on their way to Paris. Change the orders.” They left the room and the house, placing one gendarme on guard at the door of the salon. The infernal cleverness of the two men had gained a terrible advantage by taking Laurence in the trap of a not uncommon trick. CHAPTER IX. FOILED At six o’clock in the morning, as day was dawning, Corentin and Peyrade returned. Having explored the covered way they were satisfied that horses had passed through it to reach the forest. They were now awaiting the report of the captain of gendarmerie sent to reconnoitre the neighborhood. Leaving the chateau in charge of a corporal, they went to the tavern at Cinq-Cygne to get their breakfast, giving orders that Gothard, who never ceased to reply to all questions with a burst of tears, should be set at liberty, also Catherine, who still continued silent and immovable. Catherine and Gothard went to the salon to kiss the hands of their mistress, who lay exhausted on the sofa; Durieu also went in to tell her that Stella would recover, but needed great care. The mayor, uneasy and inquisitive, met Peyrade and Corentin in the village. He declared that he could not allow such important officials to breakfast in a miserable tavern, and he took them to his own house. The abbey was only three quarters of a mile distant. On the way, Peyrade remarked that the corporal of Arcis had sent no news of Michu or of Violette. “We are dealing with very able people,” said Corentin; “they are stronger than we. The priest no doubt has a finger in all this.” Just as the mayor’s wife was ushering her guests into a vast dining-room (without any fire) the lieutenant of gendarmes arrived with an anxious air. “We met the horse of the corporal of Arcis in the forest without his master,” he said to Peyrade. “Lieutenant,” cried Corentin, “go instantly to Michu’s house and find out what is going on there. They must have murdered the corporal.” This news interfered with the mayor’s breakfast. Corentin and Peyrade swallowed their food with the rapidity of hunters halting for a meal, and drove back to the chateau in their wicker carriage, so as to be ready to start at the first call for any point where their presence might be necessary. When the two men reappeared in the salon into which they had brought such trouble, terror, grief, and anxiety, they found Laurence, in a dressing-gown, Monsieur d’Hauteserre and his wife, the abbe and his sister, sitting round the fire, to all appearance tranquil.