alier's conduct,
and he took advantage of this to go away for short periods. It was
remarked that each of his absences generally coincided with the stopping
of a coach--a frequent occurrence in Normandy at this time, and one that
was considered as justifiable by the royalists. Seldom did they feel any
qualms about these exploits. The driver, and often his escort, were
accomplices of the Chouans. A few shots were fired from muskets or
pistols to keep up the pretence of a fight. Some of the men opened the
chests while others kept watch. The money belonging to the government
was divided to the last sou, while that belonging to private individuals
was carefully returned to the strong box. A few hours later the band
returned to Caen and the noisy meetings at the Cafe Hervieux were not
even interrupted.

What renders the figure of Le Chevalier especially attractive, despite
these mad pranks, which no one of his day considered dishonourable, is
the deep private grief which saddened his adventurous life. In 1801,
when he was twenty-one years of age, and during his detention at Caen,
he had married Lucile Thiboust, a girl somewhat older than himself,
whose father had been overseer of an estate. He was obliged to break out
of prison to spend a few rare hours with the wife whom he dearly loved,
all the more so since his passion was oftenest obliged to expend itself
in ardent letters not devoid of literary merit. In prison he learned of
the birth of a son born of this union, and a week later, of the death of
his adored wife. His grief was terrible, but he was seized with a
passionate love for his child, and it is said that from that day forth
he cared for no one else. He had lived so fast that at the age of
twenty-three he was tired of life; his only anxiety was for the future
of his son, whom he had confided to the care of a good woman named Marie
Hamon. He traced out a line of conduct for this babe in swaddling
clothes: "Let him flee corruption, seduction and all shameful and
violent passions; let him be a friend as they were in ancient Greece, a
lover as in ancient Gaul."

In short his exploits, his captivity, his sorrows, his eloquence, his
courage, his noble bearing, made Le Chevalier a hero of romance, and
this was the man whom Acquet de Ferolles deemed it wise to despatch to
his wife. Doubtless he had made his acquaintance through the medium of
some of his Chouan comrades. He received him at Donnay, and in order to
attach