nced yet.

"There was another trouble," she said.

"What?"

"Ah! I should like to know myself."

"Has Jacques hinted at any thing?"

"No. I only know this. Last year, at the Duchess of Champdoce's, I met
by chance the Countess Claudieuse and her children. The young woman is
perfectly charming; and, as we were going to give a ball the week after,
it occurred to me to invite her at once. She refused, and did so in such
an icy, formal manner, that I did not insist."

"She probably does not like dancing," growled the marquis.

"That same evening I mentioned the matter to Jacques. He seemed to be
very angry, and told me, in a manner that was hardly compatible with
respect, that I had been very wrong, and that he had his reasons for not
desiring to come in contact with those people."

The marquis felt so secure, that he only listened with partial
attention, looking all the time aside at his precious _faiences_.

"Well," he said at last, "Jacques detests the Claudieuses. What does
that prove? God be thanked, we do not murder all the people we detest!"

His wife did not insist any longer. She only asked,--

"Well, what must we do?"

She was so little in the habit of consulting her husband, that he was
quite surprised.

"The first thing is to get Jacques out of jail. We must see--we ought to
ask for advice."

At this moment a light knock was heard at the door.

"Come in!" he said.

A servant came in, bringing a large envelope, marked "Telegraphic
Despatch. Private."

"Upon my word!" cried the marquis. "I thought so. Now we shall be all
right again."

The servant had left the room. He tore open the envelope; but at the
first glance at the contents the smile vanished, he turned pale, and
just said,--

"Great God!"

Quick as lightning, the marchioness seized the fatal paper. She read at
a glance,--

"Come quick. Jacques in prison; close confinement; accused of horrible
crime. The whole town says he is guilty, and that he has confessed.
Infamous calumny! His judge is his former friend, Galpin, who was
to marry his cousin Lavarande. Know nothing except that Jacques is
innocent. Abominable intrigue! Grandpa Chandore and I will do what can
be done. Your help indispensable. Come, come!

"DIONYSIA CHANDORE."

"Ah, my son is lost!" cried the marchioness with tears in her eyes. The
marquis, however, had recovered already from the shock.

"And I--I say more than ever, with Dionysia, who is a brave girl,
Jac