what was taking place.
With her went Fortunio. And the Marquise, who now held the package she
had received from the courier, bade the page depart also.

When the three were at last alone, she paused before opening the letter
and turned again to the messenger. She made a brave figure in the
flood of sunlight that poured through the gules and azures of the long
blazoned windows, her tall, lissome figure clad in a close-fitting robe
of black velvet, her abundant glossy black hair rolled back under its
white coif, her black eyes and scarlet lips detaching from the ivory of
her face, in which no trace of emotion showed, for all the anxiety that
consumed her.

"Where left you the Marquis de Condillac?" she asked the fellow.

"At La Rochette, madame," the courier answered,' and his answer brought
Marius to his feet with an oath.

"So near?" he cried out. But the Dowager's glance remained calm and
untroubled.

"How does it happen that he did not hasten himself, to Condillac?" she
asked.

"I do not know, madame. I did not see Monsieur le Marquis. It was his
servant brought me that letter with orders to ride hither."

Marius approached his mother, his brow clouded.

"Let us see what he says," he suggested anxiously. But his mother did
not heed him. She stood balancing the package in her hand.

"Can you tell us, then, nothing of Monsieur le Marquis?"

"Nothing more than I have told you, madame."

She bade Marius call Fortunio, and then dismissed the courier, bidding
her captain see to his refreshment.

Then, alone at last with her son, she hastily tore the covering from
the letter, unfolded it and read. And Marius, moved by anxiety, came to
stand beside and just behind her, where he too might read. The letter
ran:

"MY VERY DEAR MARQUISE,--I do not doubt but that it will pleasure you
to hear that I am on my way home, and that but for a touch of fever that
has detained us here at La Rochette, I should be at Condillac as soon as
the messenger who is the bearer of these presents. A courier from Paris
found me a fortnight since in Milan, with letters setting forth that my
father had been dead six months, and that it was considered expedient at
Court that I should return home forthwith to assume the administration
of Condillac. I am lost in wonder that a communication of this nature
should have been addressed to me from Paris instead of from you, as
surely it must have been your duty to advise me of my father's decease