tion would come from his father. As she
looked round for a moment, she saw Norbert standing fixed and motionless
as the trees around him.

After Diana had departed, the unhappy lad felt as if she had taken
half his life with her. Was it all a dream? He knelt down, and, after
a slight search, discovered the little pellet, the cause of all the
mischief; and, taking it up carefully, returned home. To his extreme
surprise, he found the main gateway wide open, and from a window he
heard his father's voice calling out in kindly accents,--

"Come up quickly, my boy, for our guest has arrived."

CHAPTER VI.

THE COUNT DE PUYMANDOUR.

Since the death of the Duchess of Champdoce the greater portion of the
Chateau had been closed, but the reception rooms were always ready to be
used at a very short notice.

The dining-room was a really magnificent apartment. There were massive
buffets of carved oak, black with age, ornamented with brass mountings.
The shelves groaned beneath their load of goblets and salvers of the
brightest silver, engraved with the haughty armorial bearings of the
house of Champdoce.

Standing near one of the windows, Norbert saw a man, stout, robust, bald
and red-faced, wearing a mustache and slight beard. His clothes were
evidently made by a first-rate tailor, but his appearance was utterly
commonplace.

"This is my son," said the Duke, "the Marquis de Champdoce. Marquis, let
me introduce you to the Count de Puymandour."

This was the first time that his father had ever addressed Norbert by
his title, and he was greatly surprised. The great clock in the outer
hall, which had not been going for fifteen years, now struck, and
instantly a butler appeared, bearing a massive silver soup tureen, which
he placed on the table, announcing solemnly that his Grace was served,
and the little party at once seated themselves. A dinner in such a vast
chamber would have been rather dull had it not been enlivened by the
amusing tales and witty anecdotes of the Count de Puymandour, which he
narrated in a jovial but rather vulgar manner, seasoned with bursts of
laughter. He ate with an excellent appetite, and praised the quality of
the wine, which the Duke himself had chosen from the cellar, which he
had filled with an immense stock for the benefit of his descendants.
The Duke, who was generally so silent and morose, smiled buoyantly, and
appeared to enjoy the pleasantries of his guest. Was this only the duty
of