"Yes, monsieur; from Mademoiselle de Montalais."

"Thank you, monsieur; I recollect you now," said Raoul. "And what does
Mademoiselle de Montalais require of me?"

Malicorne drew four letters from his pocket, which he offered to Raoul.

"My own letters, is it possible?" he said, turning pale; "my letters,
and the seals unbroken?"

"Monsieur, your letters did not find at Blois the person to whom they
were addressed, and so they are now returned to you."

"Mademoiselle de la Valliere has left Blois, then?" exclaimed Raoul.

"Eight days ago."

"Where is she, then?"

"In Paris."

"How was it known that these letters were from me?"

"Mademoiselle de Montalais recognized your handwriting and your seal,"
said Malicorne.

Raoul colored and smiled. "Mademoiselle de Montalais is exceedingly
amiable," he said; "she is always kind and charming."

"Always, monsieur."

"Surely she could give me some precise information about Mademoiselle de
la Valliere. I never could find her in this immense city."

Malicorne drew another packet from his pocket.

"You may possibly find in this letter what you are anxious to learn."

Raoul hurriedly broke the seal. The writing was that of Mademoiselle
Aure, and inclosed were these words:--"Paris, Palais-Royal. The day of
the nuptial blessing."

"What does this mean?" inquired Raoul of Malicorne; "you probably know."

"I do, monsieur."

"For pity's sake, tell me, then."

"Impossible, monsieur."

"Why so?"

"Because Mademoiselle Aure has forbidden me to do so."

Raoul looked at his strange visitor, and remained silent;--"At least,
tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate."

"That you will see."

"You are very severe in your reservations."

"Will you grant me a favor, monsieur?" said Malicorne.

"In exchange for that you refuse me?"

"Precisely."

"What is it?"

"I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticket
to admit me, in spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one. Could
you get me admitted?"

"Certainly."

"Do me this kindness, then, I entreat."

"Most willingly, monsieur; come with me."

"I am exceedingly indebted to you, monsieur," said Malicorne.

"I thought you were a friend of M. de Manicamp."

"I am, monsieur; but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, and
I let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at me
sword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is the
reason I