“On this subject Dr. Seignebos can give you all the information you may want: he kept Cocoleu for nearly two years at his own house.” “I mean to see the doctor,” replied M. Folgat. “But first of all we must find this unfortunate idiot.” “You heard what M. Seneschal said: he has put the gendarmes on his track.” Anthony made a face, and said,-- “If the gendarmes should take Cocoleu, Cocoleu must have given himself up voluntarily.” “Why so?” “Because, gentlemen, there is no one who knows all the by-ways and out-of-the-way corners of the country so well as that idiot; for he has been hiding all his life like a savage in all the holes and hiding-places that are about here; and, as he can live perfectly well on roots and berries, he may stay away three months without being seen by any one.” “Is it possible?” exclaimed M. Folgat angrily. “I know only one man,” continued Anthony, “who could find out Cocoleu, and that is our tenant’s son Michael,--the young man you saw down stairs.” “Send for him,” said M. de Chandore. Michael appeared promptly, and, when he had heard what he was expected to do, he replied,-- “The thing can be done, certainly; but it is not very easy. Cocoleu has not the sense of a man; but he has all the instincts of a brute. However, I’ll try.” There was nothing to keep either M. de Chandore or M. Folgat any longer at Boiscoran; hence, after having warned Anthony to watch the seals well, and get a glimpse, if possible, of Jacques’s gun, when the officers should come for the different articles, they left the chateau. It was five o’clock when they drove into town again. Dionysia was waiting for them in the sitting-room. She rose as they entered, looking quite pale, with dry, brilliant eyes. “What? You are alone here!” said M. de Chandore. “Why have they left you alone?” “Don’t be angry, grandpapa. I have just prevailed on the marchioness, who was exhausted with fatigue to lie down for an hour or so before dinner.” “And your aunts?” “They have gone out, grandpapa. They are probably, by this time at M. Galpin’s.” M. Folgat started, and said,-- “Oh!” “But that is foolish in them!” exclaimed the old gentleman. The young girl closed his lips by a single word. She said,-- “I asked them to go.” V. Yes, the step taken by the Misses Lavarande was foolish. At the point which things had reached now, their going to see M. Galpin was perhaps equivalent to furnishing him the means to crush Jacques. But whose fault was it, but M. de Chandore’s and M. Folgat’s? Had they not committed an unpardonable blunder in leaving Sauveterre without any other precaution than to send word through M. Seneschal’s servant, that they would be back for dinner, and that they need not be troubled about them? Not be troubled? And that to the Marchioness de Boiscoran and Dionysia, to Jacques’s mother and Jacques’s betrothed.