The baron was so equable in temper, so kind and just to his inferiors, that his servants adored him, and would have gone through a fiery furnace for him.
So, about ten o'clock, they hastened to lead to their mistress a peasant who was returning from Sairmeuse.
This man, who was slightly intoxicated, told the strangest and most incredible stories.
He said that all the peasantry for ten leagues around were under arms, and that the Baron d'Escorval was the leader of the revolt.
He did not doubt the final success of the movement, declaring that Napoleon II., Marie-Louise, and all the marshals of the Empire were concealed in Montaignac.
Alas! it must be confessed that Lacheneur had not hesitated to utter the grossest falsehoods in his anxiety to gain followers.
Mme.

d'Escorval could not be deceived by these ridiculous stories, but she could believe, and she did believe that the baron was the prime mover in this insurrection.
And this belief, which would have carried consternation to the hearts of so many women, reassured her.
She had entire, absolute, and unlimited faith in her husband.

She believed him superior to all other men--infallible, in short.

The moment he said: "This is so!" she believed it implicitly.
Hence, if her husband had organized a movement that movement was right.

If he had attempted it, it was because he expected to succeed.
Therefore, it was sure to succeed.
Impatient, however, to know the result, she sent the gardener to Sairmeuse with orders to obtain information without awakening suspicion, if possible, and to hasten back as soon as he could learn anything of a positive nature.
He returned in about two hours, pale, frightened, and in tears.
The disaster had already become known, and had been related to him with the most terrible exaggerations.