We find their trace on the edge of a yellowed page, in dusty archives or correspondence of another era; in song lines or village conversations. These treasure stories fill dungeons and vaults with an aura of legend; even today they fascinate adventure seekers who still believe in gold sleeping in attics and boxes of precious stones buried under old oak trees.
It is raining in Bordeaux this evening in the winter of 1791 when Mr. V… hears a knock at his door. He then recognizes in themfive or six strong friendsposted on the doorstep by the same Carthusian monks who, a few months before, had entrusted two large chests to his venerable man,From a famous Bordeaux family“. They come in and half an hour later slip out into the night, arms laden with their trunks. Driven away by the revolutionaries, the monks had to leave in a hurry…
Source: Le Figaro
