Madame waited a moment or two, frowning, debating between her pride which prompted her to refuse to see an emissary of de Maurel, and the agony of suspense which was near to killing her. Anxiety gained the victory. "Very well," she said. "Let the men come up." Fernande went, and a minute or two later she returned followed by two men, one of whom was Mathurin, chief overseer of the de Maurel smelting works. Both men looked as if they had ridden hard. Mathurin's coat and hat were covered with dust; the other--a true type of the Chouans, of those who had fought under de Frotte and Cadoudal--was dressed in a tattered blouse and ragged linen breeches; the soles of his boots had parted from their uppers; he was unkempt and unwashed. Fernande closed the door behind them, then she slipped round behind Madame to the corner by the open window, where she could feel the fresh morning air and rest her aching head against the heavy curtain. Mathurin had already told her briefly what he had been sent to say: his orders were to see Mademoiselle de Courson first, and then Madame la Marquise if she asked for him. Fernande, ensconced beside the window, unseen by her aunt, could safely indulge in the luxury of tears and of silence. When the men entered, Madame la Marquise had looked for a moment keenly and searchingly at the old Chouan. She was ready and eager to catch the slightest movement or flitting glance which might have been meant for a signal. She felt anxious and puzzled, marvelling why de Maurel had sent a messenger to her--at this hour--and what was the meaning of this prisoner brought hither to speak with her. Then she turned haughtily to Mathurin. "Who has sent you?" she queried peremptorily. "M. le Marechal Comte de Maurel," replied Mathurin, after he had touched his forelock with every mark of respect. "And who are you?" asked Madame again. "Chief overseer at the smelting works." "Why did M. de Maurel send you?" "M. le Marechal thought Madame la Marquise and Mademoiselle de Courson would be anxious to know what had happened last night." "Well," she said coldly, "what did happen?" "Our alarm bells and sirens went off at half-past ten, Madame la Marquise." "I know that--I heard them." "The mutineers, with Paul Leroux at their head, have been arrested by our watchmen. Leroux confessed that he had been bribed to murder M. le Marechal, and to deliver the armament works into the hands of a band of Royalists under M. de Puisaye." "Did M. de Maurel order you to say this?" "He desired Madame la Marquise to know that Leroux was a coward as well as a traitor." "Leroux' personality.... Who is Leroux, by the way?... does not interest me. Go on." "Our sirens aroused the garrison of Domfront. The commandant sent over one of his officers with a small detachment of infantry to see what was amiss. He only thought of fire or of a mutiny among the convicts, and he was ready to send us help." "Well? And then?"