At nightfall, his horse returned, panting, covered with foam, and riderless.
What had become of its master?
A search was instituted at once, and all night long twenty men, bearing torches, wandered through the woods, shouting and calling at the top of their voices.
Five days went by, and the search for the missing man was almost abandoned, when a shepherd lad, pale with fear, came to the chateau one morning to tell them that he had discovered, at the base of a precipice, the bloody and mangled body of the Duc de Sairmeuse.
It seemed strange that such an excellent rider should have met with such a fate. There might have been some doubt as to its being an accident, had it not been for the explanation given by the grooms.
“The duke was riding an exceedingly vicious beast,” said these men. “She was always taking fright and shying at everything.”
The following week Jean Lacheneur left the neighborhood.
The conduct of this singular man had caused much comment. When Marie-Anne died, he at first refused his inheritance.
“I wish nothing that came to her through Chanlouineau!” he said everywhere, thus calumniating the memory of his sister as he had calumniated her when alive.
Then, after a short absence, and without any apparent reason, he suddenly changed his mind.