I knew that it was under the management of a distinguished archeologist, who was also the editor of my friend Baux’s work on the church of Brou. I asked for M. Milliet. M. Milliet appeared. We shook hands and I explained the object of my visit. “I can fix you perfectly,” said he to me. “I will take you to one of our magistrates, who is at present engaged upon a history of the department.” “How far has he got in this history?” “1822.” “Then that’s all right. As the events I want to relate occurred in 1799, and my heroes were executed in 1800, he will have covered that epoch, and can furnish me with the desired information. Let us go to your magistrate.” On the road, M. Milliet told me that this same magisterial historian was also a noted gourmet. Since Brillat-Savarin it has been the fashion for magistrates to be epicures. Unfortunately, many are content to be gourmands, which is not at all the same thing. We were ushered into the magistrate’s study. I found a man with a shiny face and a sneering smile. He greeted me with that protecting air which historians deign to assume toward poets. “Well, sir,” he said to me, “so you have come to our poor country in search of material for your novel?” “No, sir; I have my material already. I have come simply to consult your historical documents.” “Good! I did not know that it was necessary to give one’s self so much trouble in order to write novels.” “There you are in error, sir; at least in my instance. I am in the habit of making exhaustive researches upon all the historical events of which I treat.” “You might at least have sent some one else.” “Any person whom I might send, sir, not being so completely absorbed in my subject, might have overlooked many important facts. Then, too, I make use of many localities which I cannot describe unless I see them.” “Oh, then this is a novel which you intend writing yourself?” “Yes, certainly, sir. I allowed my valet to write my last; but he had such immense success that the rogue asked so exorbitant an increase of wages that, to my great regret, I was unable to keep him.” The magistrate bit his lips. Then, after a moment’s silence, he said: “Will you kindly tell me, sir, how I can assist you in this important work?” “You can direct my researches, sir. As you have compiled the history of the department, none of the important event which have occurred in its capital can be unknown to you.” “Truly, sir, I believe that in this respect I am tolerably well informed.” “Then, sir, in the first place, your department was the centre of the operations of the Company of Jehu.” “Sir, I have heard speak of the Companions of Jesus,” replied the magistrate with his jeering smile. “The Jesuits, you mean? That is not what I am seeking, sir.” “Nor is it of them that I am speaking. I refer to the stage robbers who infested the highroads from 1797 to 1800.”