certain messages, for yourself, mademoiselle, and for Marie--if
Madame is Marie."

"Yes," replied the grim voice in the doorway. "Madame is Marie."

Loo had turned toward her. It seemed his happy fate to be able to
disarm antagonism at the first pass. He looked at Marie and smiled;
and slowly, unwillingly, her grim face relaxed.

"Well," he said, "you are not to expect Monsieur le Marquis to-
night, nor yet, for some time to come. For he will go on to
Bordeaux, where he can obtain skilled treatment for his injured
ankle, and remain there until he can put his foot to the ground. He
is comfortable enough on board the ship, which will proceed up the
river to-morrow morning to Bordeaux. Monsieur le Marquis also told
me to set your mind at rest on another point. He was to have
brought with him a guest--"

Loo paused and bowed to Marie, with a gay grace.

"A humble one. But I am not to come to Gemosac just now. I am
going, instead, with Monsieur Dormer Colville, to stay at Royan with
Mrs. St. Pierre Lawrence. It is, I hope, a pleasure deferred. I
cannot, it appears, show myself in Bordeaux at present, and I quit
the ship to-night. It is some question of myself and my heritage in
France, which I do not understand."

"Is that so?" said Marie. "One can hardly believe it."

"What do you mean?"