up the idea. From day to day he put off
sending the necessary papers to Paris. From day to day, after the
eventful interview, he managed to avoid any private conversation with
Ratoneau. This was possible, as the General was occupied in reviewing
the troops in the neighbourhood, and was absent from Sonnay for several
days. Then a new ally stepped in on Helene's side, and touched the
Prefect gently, but effectively. When General Ratoneau returned to
Sonnay, the very day before Georges de Sainfoy's visit, he was met by
the news that a slight stroke of paralysis had deprived Monsieur de
Mauves of his speech, and of the use of his right hand. Going at once to
the Prefecture, roughly demanding an interview with the Prefect, he
encountered a will stronger than his own in that of the Sonnay doctor,
who absolutely refused to let any one into the sickroom.

"But he must have written to Paris--he must--he promised me that he
would," Ratoneau assured Georges de Sainfoy, who stood before him
frowning doubtfully. "He dared not disappoint me. I have him under my
thumb, I tell you--like that--" he crushed a fly on the table.

"I see--but why all this delay?" said the young man.

Ratoneau drummed with his fist and whistled. "Delay, yes--" he said. "I
meant Monsieur le Prefet to give an account of himself yesterday--I
suppose I am as impatient as you are--" he grinned. "After all,
monsieur, this official business takes time. It is only a fortnight
since I brought the good man to his marrow-bones. Ah, I wish you had
seen him! the grimaces he made! When I went first he defied me, as bold
as you please. Your father was his friend, he would do nothing to annoy
your father. Then, when I went back with a little more information, he
began to see all his beloved Chouans in prison, as well as himself. I
had him then. He began to see, perhaps, that a man in my position was
not such an impossible husband for a young girl of good family. Ha, ha!"

"A fortnight seems to me quite long enough to write to Paris and get an
answer," said Georges.

He was a little sorry for himself. He wished he had seen Ratoneau for
the first time on horseback, a smart, correct officer, reviewing his
troops. Then it would have been easy enough to accept him as a
brother-in-law. But this red-faced, slovenly creature in careless
undress, made even more repulsive by his uncanny likeness to
Napoleon--vulgar in manners, bragging in talk! De Sainfoy had met
strange varieti