By this time Urbain had disappeared round the corner of the church, and was hurrying down the hill. She slipped in at her own little door, to her place near the altar, so lately left. All was silent now, the Curé was gone; she knelt there alone and prayed for them all, as Urbain had said. His words were mockery, she knew; but that only made her prayers more earnest. The misty autumn morning grew into a cloudless day. Urbain came home to breakfast between ten and eleven, but Angelot did not appear. Urbain was grave and full of business. A short talk with Hervé, who was going out shooting, a much longer and more interesting talk with Adélaïde, had the consequence of sending him off that very day to the town of Sonnay-le-Loir, the Prefect's residence and General Ratoneau's headquarters. It was not exactly a pleasant errand, to convey Monsieur and Madame de Sainfoy's refusal of his offer to a man like the General. It could have been done quite as easily by the post, thus sparing trouble and annoyance to the faithful cousin who had borne so much. But there were complications; and a careful talking over of these with Adélaïde, after Hervé was gone, had led Urbain to suggest going himself. He had a double reason for wishing to soften the effect of his cousin's rather short and haughty letter. It must go, of course, whatever his own and Madame de Sainfoy's disapproval; but there were things that diplomacy might do, without, as it seemed, any serious consequences to recoil on the diplomatists. Madame de Sainfoy might gain imperial favour, Monsieur de la Marinière might help her and save his foolish boy, and no one in the family, except themselves, need know what they were doing. It was not an uncommon thing for Urbain to drive over to Sonnay, though he generally started much earlier. On this occasion he said nothing of his real errand to his wife, only telling her when she mentioned Hélène's marriage that Hervé continued in the same mind. Many things wanted for the house and the farm had come conveniently to his memory. He started with his groom at twelve o'clock, in the high, hooded carriage, with a pair of strong horses, which made short work of the rocky lanes about La Marinière. The high road towards Sonnay was smooth compared with these, running between belts of dark forest, and along it Monsieur Urbain drove at a good rattling pace of twelve miles an hour. Sonnay-le-Loir was a beautiful and picturesque town, once strongly defended, both by walls and a deep river which flowed round below them. There was a good deal left of the old ramparts; the gates still stood, the narrow streets of tall old white houses, each with its court and carriage entrance and shady garden behind, went climbing up the hill to the large square where the Cathedral towered on one side, the town-hall and public offices filled up another, the Prefecture a third, and an old hotel, now used as military quarters, the fourth.