Such were some of the half-muttered, half-silent thoughts of Jacqueline de Chazeul, as she sat waiting for her son; but he kept her not long in expectation, for he was anxious to hear the result of her interview with Rose d'Albret; and, as soon as he did appear, the Marchioness greeted him with a gay look, asking, "Well, Chazeul, have you seen your uncle?" "No!" he replied, "He has not come to the hall. What are your news? What says the little prisoner?" "Of that afterwards," answered the Marchioness, "First, the marriage is to be to-morrow before noon. For that, your Uncle's word is pledged, and we must see that he keeps it; for, if this obstinate girl should still resist, he may be shaken. Now tell me, Chazeul, when did her looks first begin to grow cold towards you?" "They were never very warm," said Chazeul, "but they have been chilly enough for the last ten days." "Then it is so!" rejoined his mother as if speaking to herself; "that chilliness makes me think that she may love you rather more than less." "Come, good mother, no riddles," exclaimed Chazeul, "we have no time for solving them; nor am I an [OE]dipus. What is it that you mean?" "I mean that jealousy has a share in this affair," answered the Marchioness. "She has learned your folly with Helen de la Tremblade.--Helen has written to her, or told her; for she saw her about that time." "I do not believe it," replied Chazeul, "I do not believe it in the least;" and putting his hand to his brow, he thought for a moment, murmuring, "No, no she would never--" "But she has, foolish boy," cried Madame de Chazeul. "I know she has, from what this wrong-headed girl said just now. Now mark me well, Chazeul, if you will be guided by me in everything, you will succeed, wed Rose d'Albret, and be one of the richest men in France,--ay, second to none in wealth and power, except the princes of the blood. But if you will not, you will lose her, and with her, not only her estates, but all the wealth that has accumulated, since first she came here as a child." "Oh, my good mother, I am quite willing to follow your course of policy," replied her son. "No one like a woman for managing a woman. But let me hear first, what she said. Does she believe that De Montigni is dead?" "Yes she does," replied the Marchioness. "Your uncle convinced her of that." "Then she is mine according to the contract," said Chazeul. "What did she say to that?" "Why, at first, she seemed seeking to gain time," answered his mother, "but afterwards, when your uncle was gone, she vowed vehemently, that she would never wed you.--I think not the worse of your case for that, as that is a vow which many a woman makes and breaks; but haste is the thing in this case, and her spirit must be broken down ere noon to-morrow, else we may have news, which will overthrow all that we have done--De Montigni may not be dead after all,--he may be wounded,--he may recover. Then what are we to do?--No, we must lose no time."