arning in itself:

"Here, Madame, is Captain Babache."

Francezka was alone, but not without companionship. The dog Bold lay
at her feet. Her harpsichord was open, a book lay by her on the table,
and her fingers were busily employed on some fine needlework, for she
was an expert needlewoman. I had schooled my countenance, but I verily
believe, without levity, that there is something sinister in extreme
ugliness, and it was that which gave old Peter the warning of evil,
and also Francezka. As she heard my name, she sprang up, her vivid
face breaking into a smile like sunlight, and she cried, in her sweet
and penetrating voice:

"Oh, Babache, how glad I am to see you! And how is my lord? And where
is the letter, for surely he has written me."

I handed her silently the letter I had found on Gaston's table. She
snatched it from my hand, kissed the signature, and read it and
re-read it, smiling joyfully all the while; then, for the first time,
looking closely at me, her smile faded, her eyes grew anxious, and
stepping forward, she laid her hand on my arm. She said not one word,
but her eyes commanded me to speak. She told me afterward that the
look in my face frightened her so that she could hardly stand. But I,
obeying the command in her eyes, told her every word concerning Gaston
that I knew. She heard me to the end, and I could see that like all
really courageous persons, she grew calmer as the danger got closer.
When I had finished, she said to me in a steady voice:

"And you say, Babache, there is not the smallest evidence that my
husband is dead?"

"Not the least, Madame. Not a handkerchief belonging to him has been
found. There is a boom at the narrowest part of the river, below
Hueningen, which would stop the body of a ferret, much less a man's,
and nothing has been found there."

She drew a long breath of relief, and sat down, leaning her head on
her hand--a favorite attitude of hers. The dog Bold, knowing as well
as I that Francezka was troubled, lay down at her feet, and licked the
half-open hand that hung at her side. I then told her that Count Saxe
had directed me to place myself at her service.

"How good that was of him!" she said. "And you, of all persons, would
be the most helpful to me, for, of course, I intend myself to go in
search of my husband. Has Regnard been notified of Gaston's
disappearance?"

I replied that he had, but so far no word had come from him. Francezka
reflected a little whi