When the alarm had ceased, he slipped away, and leaving Montpelier, made his way to Toulouse, where he cashed another forged bill of exchange, now for 5,000 francs. With the funds obtained he travelled northward, but was followed from Toulouse, for the forgery was quickly discovered. When arrested they carried him to Grenoble, and there he was tried for the forgery. His sentence was to five years' _travaux forcés_, and exposure in the pillory (_carcan_). Before long he was recognised at Grenoble by one of those whom he had nominated to his staff at Fréjus, and being tried again he was now sent to the Bagne of Brest. Collet passed five years in this prison, and somehow contrived to live more or less comfortably as a galley slave. He was always in funds, but how he obtained them, or where he kept them, was a profound mystery to the very last. With the money thus at his disposal he purchased extra food, he bought the assistance of his fellows to relieve him of the severer toils, and no doubt bribed his keepers. He became so fat and round-faced, and generally so benignant and smiling, that he was nicknamed by his comrades of the chain "Monsieur l'évêque." Numberless attempts were made to discover the sources of his wealth; he was supposed to have secreted a store of precious stones, but, although he was watched and frequently searched, they were never found. He was free-handed, too, with his money, gave freely to other convicts, and was much esteemed by them. It is told of one who committed a murder in the prison that, when permitted to address his comrades before execution, after acknowledging their general kindness to himself, he added, "I wish especially to thank Monsieur Collet." He did not live to return to liberty, and died, only a few days before the end of his term, consumed with despair at ending his days at the Bagne, but carrying with him the secret of his wealth. Nine louis d'or only were found, in the collar of his waistcoat; what had become of the rest no one could tell. He never had money in the hands of the prison paymaster, he was never found in the possession of more money than he was entitled to receive as prison earnings, and yet, when he wanted it to gratify any expensive taste, to buy white shirts, snuff, books, wine, or toothsome food, the gold flowed from his hand as if by legerdemain. COGNARD. Hardly less remarkable than Collet's adventures are those of Cognard, an ex-convict, who, in the topsy-turvy times of the First Empire, came to be colonel of a regiment, wearing many decorations and having a good record of service in the field.