The chests and the door of the treasury were carefully locked, and the vagabond was received in the barnyard. It was beautiful weather, and Jovelin was of opinion that a trickster of that sort should not be admitted to the house. What he had foreseen actually happened. La Flèche brought with him the seal, which he claimed to have found in little Pilar's possession; he also assumed to reveal the mystery of Mario's birth and of the murder of Florimond by Monsieur de Villareal. The marquis allowed him to say all that he had to say, then dismissed him, with a crown, for the trouble he had taken to bring back the seal; but he pretended not to understand the story he had told, to place no faith in it, and to be much shocked that he should dare to accuse Monsieur de Villareal, against whom he had no other proof than the Moorish woman's excitement and her exclamation when she thought that she recognized him on the moor of Champillé. Herein the marquis, advised by Lucilio, acted wisely. If he had seemed to credit the accusation, La Flèche would have been quite capable of giving the Spaniard warning, in order to have two strings to his bow. La Flèche, bitterly disappointed by his fiasco, sheepishly withdrew, and was walking along the outer wall of Galatée's garden, when he heard a soft voice calling his name. It was Mario, whom the marquis had not chosen to admit to the interview, desiring that all relations between his heir and gypsydom should be severed irrevocably. But as he had not explained his wishes in that respect, the child did not know that he was acting in opposition to them when he glided through the labyrinth and watched for the gypsy to pass, through a little loophole looking toward the village. "Who calls me?" he said, looking about him. "I," said Mario. "I want you to tell me about Pilar." "What will you give for that?" "I can't give you anything. I haven't anything!" "Idiot! steal something!" "No, never! Will you answer me?" "In a minute; answer me first. What do you do in this château?" "Play music." "What else?--Aha! you don't choose to speak? All right. Adieu!" "And you won't tell me where Pilar is?" "She is dead," replied the gypsy brutally, and he walked away whistling. Mario tried in vain to recall him. When he could no longer hear him, he began to run about and play in the labyrinth, trying to convince himself that La Flèche had made sport of him. But the idea of his little companion's death caused a terrible shock to his vivid imagination. "She used to say that La Flèche beat her," he thought; "but I didn't believe her. He never beat her before us. But perhaps she didn't lie; perhaps he beat her until he killed her."