himself returned with his troop to the place whence he had started in
the morning. The marquis had relatives in the neighbourhood, and it was
quite possible that he might seek shelter with some of them. All the
village ran to meet the horsemen, who were obliged to confess that they
had been duped by the handsome prisoner. Different views were expressed
on the event, which gave rise to much talking. The provost entered the
inn, banging his fist on the furniture, and blaming everybody for the
misfortune which had happened to him. The daughter of the house, at
first a prey to the most grievous anxiety, had great difficulty in
concealing her joy.

The provost spread his papers over the table, as if to nurse his
ill-temper.

"The biggest rascal in the world!" he cried; "I ought to have suspected
him."

"What a handsome man he was!" said the hostess.

"A consummate rascal! Do you know who he is? He is the Marquis de
Saint-Maixent!"

"The Marquis de Saint-Maixent!" all cried with horror.

"Yes, the very man," replied the provost; "the Marquis de Saint-Maixent,
accused, and indeed convicted, of coining and magic."

"Ah!"

"Convicted of incest."