ived of their father's fortune,
which the nation could sequestrate as the property of an _emigre_, Mme.
de Vaubadon, like many other royalists, had sued for a divorce. All
those who had had recourse to this extremity had asked for an annulment
of the decree as soon as their husbands could return to France, and had
resumed conjugal relations. But Mme. de Vaubadon did not consider her
divorce a mere formality; she intended to remain free, and even brought
suit against her husband for the settlement of her property. This act,
which was severely criticised by the aristocracy of Bayeux, alienated
many of her friends and placed her somewhat on the outskirts of
society. From that time lovers were attributed to her, and it is certain
that her conduct became more light. She scarcely concealed her liaison
with Guerin de Bruslart, the leader of the Norman Chouans, the successor
of Frotte, and a true type of the romantic brigand, who managed to live
for ten years in Normandy and even in Paris, without falling into one of
the thousand traps set for him by Fouche. Bruslart arrived at his
mistress's house at night, his belt bristling with pistols and poniards,
and "always ready for a desperate hand-to-hand fight."

Together with this swaggerer Mme. de Vaubadon received a certain
Ollendon, a Chouan of doubtful reputation, who was said to have gone
over to the police through need of money. Mme. de Vaubadon, since her
divorce, had herself been in a precarious position. She had dissipated
her own fortune, which had already been greatly lessened by the
Revolution. She was now reduced to expedients, and seeing closed to her
the doors of many of the houses in Bayeux to which her presence had
formerly given tone, she went to Caen and settled in the Rue Guilbert
nearly opposite the Rue Coupee.

Whether it was that Ollendon had decided to profit by her relations with
the Chouans, or that Fouche had learned that she was in need and would
not refuse good pay for her services, Mme. de Vaubadon was induced to
enter into communication with the police. The man whom in 1793 Charlotte
Corday had immortally branded with a word, Senator Doulcet de
Pontecoulant, undertook to gain this recruit for the imperial
government.

If certain traditions are to be trusted, Pontecoulant, who was supposed
to be one of Acquet de Ferolles' protectors, had insinuated to Mme. de
Vaubadon that "her intrigues with the royalists had long been known in
high places, and an