“Indeed, the whole house had a shut-up, deserted appearance, and impressed him unpleasantly as he quickened his footsteps with a vague presentiment of evil. The first person he saw, on entering the court, was Celine, who, at sight of him, screamed out: “‘Oh, Monsieur, what brings you here now, and where is madame? Has anything happened to the little master?’ “‘Where is madame? What do you mean? Where should she be but here, when I have come to take her to Paris?’ Haverleigh said, and Celine, violently excited, continued: “‘Come to take her to Paris? She’s gone to Paris, long ago; gone with Madame Verwest. Surely you knew that?’ “Surely he did not, and he shook so violently that he could not stand, but was obliged to sit down while Celine told him rapidly, and with a great many gesticulations, what she knew of madame’s going away. “‘A letter had come that monsieur would be there to accompany madame to Paris, and then Mistress Anna had packed her boxes, but taken no grand dresses—nothing but her plainest—and had told Celine she was not to go, as Fanny Shader could do all that was necessary, and Madame Verwest, too.’ “‘Madame Verwest!’ Haverleigh gasped, ‘is she gone, too?’ “‘To be sure she has; but it was after the telegram that she decided to go,’ Celine said, ‘for the day after the letter there came down a telegram from Madame Eugenie, bidding Madame Anna start at once, and you would meet her at Avignon; and she started last Wednesday is a week for Paris, with Madame Verwest, the baby, and Fanny Shader, and now you come after them. I know not what it may mean.’ “Celine had talked very rapidly, and a little incoherently, but Haverleigh had managed to follow her and understand at least one fact, his wife and child were gone, and had been gone for more than a week; and as they were not in Paris, where could they be, and what did it all mean, and what was this about a telegram from Eugenie? He could not understand it, but bade Celine send Brunell to him at once. She obeyed, and Brunell came, but could throw no light upon the mystery. Anna had gone, as Celine said, and gone, too, in accordance with instructions received from Eugenie Arschinard, whose telegram he saw himself. “‘And you knew nothing of it?’ he asked. ‘You have never seen them in Paris?’ “‘Never,’ and the veins upon Haverleigh’s forehead began to swell and stand out like ridges as he grew more and more amazed and excited.