former cashier of the house of Gilmour and
Benson.

"Our Sir Francis is not dead. He was sent by his father to Madras, to
attend to very important financial matters, and is expected back by the
next mail steamer. We shall be informed of his arrival on the very day
on which he lands.

"I have had less trouble in discovering Suky Wood's family. They are
people very well off, who keep a sailor's tavern in Folkstone. They
had news from their daughter about three weeks ago; but, although
they profess to be very much attached to her, they could not tell me
accurately where she was just now. All they know is, that she has gone
to Jersey to act as barmaid in a public house.

"But that is enough for me. The island is not very large; and I know it
quite well, having once before followed a notary public there, who had
run off with the money of his clients. You may consider Suky as safe.

"When you receive this letter, I shall be on my way to Jersey.

"Send me money there to the Golden Apple Hotel, where I propose to
lodge. Life is amazingly dear in London; and I have very little left of
the sum you gave me on parting."

Thus, in this direction, at least, every thing was going well.

Quite elated by this first success, M. Folgat put a thousand-franc note
into an envelope, directed it as desired, and sent it at once to the
post-office. Then he asked M. de Chandore to lend him his carriage, and
went out to Boiscoran.

He wanted to see Michael, the tenant's son, who had been so prompt
in finding Cocoleu, and in bringing him into town. He found him,
fortunately, just coming home, bringing in a cart loaded with straw;
and, taking him aside, he asked him,--

"Will you render M. de Boiscoran a great service?"

"What must I do?" replied the young man in a tone of voice which said,
better than all protestations could have done, that he was ready to do
any thing.

"Do you know Trumence?"

"The former basket-weaver of Tremblade?"

"Exactly."

"Upon my word, don't I know him? He has stolen apples enough from me,
the scamp! But I don't blame him so much, after all; for he is a good
fellow, in spite of that."

"He was in prison at Sauveterre."

"Yes, I know; he had broken down a gate near Brechy and"--

"Well, he has escaped."

"Ah, the scamp!"

"And we must find him again. They have put the gendarmes on his track;
but will they catch him?"

Michael burst out laughing.

"Never in his life!" he said. "Trumence will m