“‘I went to that church the next Easter Sunday and every Easter Sunday since, for in the meantime I had bought the Château de Gueures and after the manner of a scrupulous soldier I kept watch at the post assigned to me. I waited.
“‘I have been waiting fifty years, monseigneur. No one has come. Not only has no one come but I have never heard a word from anyone’s lips which had the slightest connection with the affair. The block of granite is in its place. Every Easter Sunday the verger lights the candles in the seven branches of the candlestick. But the man in black has never come to the meeting-place.
“‘What was I to do? To whom was I to address myself? Enter into communication with some ecclesiastical authority? Ask for an audience of the King of France? No. My mission was strictly defined. I had no right to interpret it in my own way.
“‘I remained silent. But after how many debates in my own mind! After what anguish at the thought that I might die and carry to my grave a secret of this immense importance!
“‘This evening, monseigneur, all my doubts and scruples have vanished. Your fortuitous coming to the château appears to me an undeniable manifestation of the Divine will. You are at once the spiritual and temporal power. As Archbishop you represent the Church. As senator you represent France. I run no risk of making a mistake in making a revelation to you of such interest both to the one and the other. Hence it is for you to make the choice, monseigneur. Take the matter in hand, make the necessary negotiations. And when you tell me into whose hands this sacred stone should be delivered, I will reveal its hiding-place!’
“Cardinal Bonnechose had listened to the story without interrupting. But at the end of it he told the chevalier frankly that he found it rather hard to credit. Thereupon the chevalier left the room and came back in a couple of minutes carrying a small sandalwood casket.
“‘Here is the casket of which the dead priest told me,’ he said. ‘I found it buried in front of the block of granite; and I thought it wiser to have it here. Take it away with you, monseigneur, and have the several hundred precious stones it contains valued. You will then be satisfied that the story I have told you is true, and that that worthy priest was right to talk about incalculable riches, since the block of granite contains—so he assured me—ten thousand stones as fine as these.’
“The insistence of the chevalier and this proof which he adduced, prevailed with the cardinal. He undertook to make the necessary investigations and to summon the old gentleman to him as soon as he had discovered the proper destination of the treasure.
“The interview ended with this promise. The Archbishop had the firmest intention of fulfilling it; but the events which followed delayed him. These events, as you know, were the declaration of war on Germany and the disasters which followed it. The heavy duties of his double task took up all his time. The Empire fell in ruin. France was invaded. Months passed.
“When Rouen was threatened, the cardinal, desirous of sending to England certain documents which he reckoned of great importance, decided to send with them the sandalwood casket. On the fourth of December, the eve of the entry of the Germans into Rouen, a confidential servant of the name of Jaubert drove off in a dog-cart along the road to Havre, where he was to embark.