But the widow had certain suspicions which were changed into something like certainty by George’s flight.  A particular circumstance aided and almost confirmed her doubts.  An abbe who was a friend of her husband, and knew all about the disappearance of George, met him some days afterwards in the rue des Masons, near the Sorbonne.  They were both on the same side, and a hay-cart coming along the street was causing a block.  George raised his head and saw the abbe, knew him as a friend of his late master, stooped under the cart and crawled to the other side, thus at the risk of being crushed escaping from the eyes of a man whose appearance recalled his crime and inspired him with fear of punishment.  Madame de Saint-Laurent preferred a charge against George, but though he was sought for everywhere, he could never be found.  Still the report of these strange deaths, so sudden and so incomprehensible, was bruited about Paris, and people began to feel frightened.  Sainte-Croix, always in the gay world, encountered the talk in drawing-rooms, and began to feel a little uneasy.  True, no suspicion pointed as yet in his direction; but it was as well to take precautions, and Sainte-Croix began to consider how he could be freed from anxiety.  There was a post in the king’s service soon to be vacant, which would cost 100,000 crowns; and although Sainte-Croix had no apparent means, it was rumoured that he was about to purchase it.  He first addressed himself to Belleguise to treat about this affair with Penautier.  There was some difficulty, however, to be encountered in this quarter.  The sum was a large one, and Penautier no longer required help; he had already come into all the inheritance he looked for, and so he tried to throw cold water on the project.

Sainte-Croix thus wrote to Belleguise: 

“Dear friend,—­Is it possible that you need any more talking to about the matter you know of, so important as it is, and, maybe, able to give us peace and quiet for the rest of our days!  I really think the devil must be in it, or else you simply will not be sensible:  do show your common sense, my good man, and look at it from all points of view; take it at its very worst, and you still ought to feel bound to serve me, seeing how I have made everything all right for you:  all our interests are together in this matter.  Do help me, I beg of you; you may feel sure I shall be deeply grateful, and you will never before have acted so agreeably both for me and for yourself.  You know quite enough about it, for I have not spoken so openly even to my own brother as I have to you.  If you can come this afternoon, I shall be either at the house or quite near at hand, you know where I mean, or I will expect you tomorrow morning, or I will come and find you, according to what you reply.—­Always yours with all my heart.”