"This must be inquired into," said the king, "this must be inquired into. My good Lord of Vieilleville, call the page for these despatches. It behooves you, my Lord of Masseran, to make strict and immediate inquiry into the whole of this affair, in which you shall be aided and assisted by a commissary on our part. There are the despatches, boy. Why wait you? What is it now?" "May it please your majesty," replied the page, "there is a lady without craving earnestly to see you. She calls herself the sister of the Count of Brienne, and I remember her well at the court some months ago. She seems in much grief, and--" "Give her admission," said the king, "give her instant admission. She may throw some light upon all this affair, my good Lord of Masseran." The marquis turned somewhat pale; for the appearance of Isabel of Brienne in the king's presence was not at all what he wished or calculated upon. He had hoped for an opportunity of telling his own tale, and causing his wife to tell hers so as to corroborate all he said, without the actual appearance of Isabel herself. He knew that the Count de Meyrand, though apparently taking no part in all that occurred since their arrival in Paris, had been continually and skilfully preparing the way for the development of his part in the transaction; had been labouring to make friends and gain supporters among those who possessed the king's ear, and had been apparently not a little successful, even with the fair Duchess of Valentinois herself. It must not be supposed, however, that good Monsieur de Masseran was moved by any personal love or regard for the Count de Meyrand: there was but one tie between them, the tie of interest; and the moment that the Lord of Masseran saw that more was to be lost or risked by the Count de Meyrand than to be gained, that instant he was prepared to put an end to his affection for his noble friend. He was, however, as we have seen, in various respects, in the count's power; and he had trusted that their united operations would be sufficient to induce the king to act without listening to the fair girl herself. He had, moreover, believed, when he heard of the death of Bernard de Rohan, that one great obstacle being removed, the rest would be comparatively easy. The arrival of Isabel, however, was most inopportune; for he saw that, in the king's angry mood at the moment, the disclosure of all that had taken place within the last few weeks might be ruinous in another way, and not only overthrow his future schemes with regard to Mademoiselle de Brienne herself, but bring punishment on his head for what had occurred before.