"Perhaps!" Urbain said, screwing up his mouth. "A benevolent despot. Obedience is good for the soul--n'est-ce pas, madame? I give my commands for the good of others, and pure reason lies behind them. What is it, Négo?" The dog lifted his black head and growled. There was a sharp clank of footsteps on the stones outside. "A bas, Négo!" cried Angelot, as a soldier, with a letter in his hand, appeared at the window. The dog sprang up, barking furiously, about to fly at him. "See to your dog! Take him away!" Monsieur Urbain shouted to Angelot. The young man threw himself on the dog and dragged him, snarling, out of the room. Anne looked up with surprise at the soldier, who saluted, standing outside the low window-sill. Urbain went to him, and took the letter from his hand. "It is Monsieur de la Marinière?" said the man. "At your service. From Monsieur le Général. Is there an answer?" "Wait a moment, my man," said Urbain. He broke the large red seal, standing by the window. One glance showed him the contents of the letter, for they were only three words and an initial. --"_Tout va bien. R._"-- But though the words were few, their significance was great, and it kept the sturdy master of La Marinière standing motionless for a minute or two in a dream, with the open letter in his hand, forgetful alike of the messenger waiting outside, and of his wife behind him at the table. A dark stain of colour stole up into his sunburnt face, his strong mouth quivered, then set itself obstinately. So! this thing was to happen. Treason to Hervé, was it? No, it was for his good, for everybody's good. Sentiment was out of place in a political matter such as this. Sacrifice of a girl? well, what was gained in the world without sacrifice? Let her think herself Iphigenia, if she chose; but, after all, many girls as noble and as pretty had shown her the way she was to go. "All goes well!" he muttered between his teeth. "This gentleman is impatient; he does not let the grass grow. Odd enough that we have to thank our dear Joseph for suggesting it!" Then he woke to outside things, among them the waiting soldier, standing there like a wooden image in the blaze of sunshine. "No answer, my friend," he said. He took out a five-franc piece and gave it to the man, not without a glance at the splendid Roman head upon it. "He only needs a little idealising!" he said to himself; then aloud to the soldier: "My best compliments to Monsieur le Général. Go to the kitchen; they will give you something to eat and drink after your ride." "Merci, monsieur!" the soldier saluted and went.