The apartments of Madame de Chazeul were quite at the other side of the house, so that he was long in reaching them; for, in the mansions of those days, the architects had displayed all their skill in distributing the cubic space contained in any given building, into as many stairs and passages as possible, so that its tenants, unless they restrained themselves to one especial part, might never want exercise in arriving at the rest. The ante-room door was at length reached; and, tapping gently, for fear of startling the inmates, the man was surprised to find his summons answered instantly by one of the Marchioness's maids fully dressed, but pale in the face with drowsiness, and heavy about the eyes. "Can I speak a moment with Madame?" asked the servant in a low voice. "Oh yes, Pierre," replied the woman. "She expects some of you. I thought you would never come." The man began to fancy, he had made a mistake, and that Madame de Chazeul had really sent the priest to the page: so that he would now willingly have retreated; but the maid continued, "Come in! come in!" and another who was sitting at a frame embroidering, rose and went to the inner room to tell the Marchioness that "Pierre was come." "Pierre!" cried Madame de Chazeul; "what has he to do with it? Bring him in, however. This must be some other affair. What now, Pierre?" she asked, fixing her keen vulture-like eyes upon him as he was brought forward, and signing her maids to close the door: "What seek you here so late?" "Why, so please you, Madam," replied the servant, "I was not sure that all was right, and thought it better to tell you what was going on, because you once told me--" The Marchioness waved her hand impatiently, exclaiming "What is it? what is it? Cease your prefaces!--What brought you hither?" "Why, Madam, father Walter, the priest," answered the servant, "stole up just now to the room where the boy Philip and I are lodged. Not a word did he say to me; but he woke Philip, and when I roused up at the sound of voices, for I was but in a dog's sleep, I heard him give the page a message from you, Madam." "From me?" cried the Marchioness, her eye glowing like a coal with anger and eagerness. "Well, what was the message?" "That he was to ride instantly back to the château, Madam," replied the man, who easily divined from his mistress's face that all was not right; "and to bring hither, before nine to-morrow, a book of Hours from the room Mademoiselle Helen used to occupy." "Did he say that?" demanded the Marchioness vehemently. "Did he use those exact words,--'that she used to occupy?'" "Yes, Madam, just that," answered Pierre. "I marked that shrewdly, for he said those words very slowly: and what made me think it altogether strange was, that though he said you wanted to see the book, he told Philip to bring it direct to him."