"If you have business with us, certainly, Monsieur," replied Mlle. Angèle, standing back, and the very steadiness of her tone, its absence of surprise, seemed to hint that she knew what he had come about. He threw a look down the path at his horse, standing, too spent to move, at the gate, and stepped in, uttering apologies for his wet and muddy condition. "Monsieur appears indeed to have ridden far, and in haste," remarked Mme. de Chaulnes, responding to his salute with an inclination of the head, but still continuing her embroidery. "Pray give yourself the trouble to hang your cloak by the fire. Angèle, perhaps Monsieur will partake of some refreshment?" But Monsieur declined. "I am in haste, Mesdames. I think you can guess why. I have come, on the part of his grandfather, to take away the little boy whom you have with you--Anne-Hilarion de Flavigny." Mme. de Chaulnes raised her still beautifully-marked eyebrows. "What a singular hour to arrive, Monsieur! But you are forestalled. The little boy went back with his nurse this afternoon--no, not by the stage-coach, in a postchaise. They must be at Rochester by now; you will have passed them on the road." The émigré's face grew dark. "Madame, would not truth be better? I am not a very credulous person. It will be quite easy for me to procure a magistrate's warrant against you. I have the written authority of the boy's grandfather." Mme. de Chaulnes looked at him with a very finished composure. "I am afraid that I do not quite follow you, Monsieur. I have already had the honour to tell you that the child was sent back this afternoon. . . . Ah, I see--you do not believe me! Well, it will no doubt be quite easy to procure a warrant; we are only two women in a strange country; but I think it would advantage you very little, since no amount of search warrants--if that is what you are threatening--will produce what is not there. Pray examine our poor house yourself, if that will give you satisfaction; you are at perfect liberty to do so. Angèle, light a candle and conduct Monsieur." It was on the tip of La Vireville's tongue to refuse, for he was convinced that the offer would never have been made if the boy were still there. In that respect at least the truth had probably been spoken. But the operation would give him time for thought. "Yes, if you please, I will do so," he said, and while the younger lady lighted a candle, stood silent, looking at the elder, as she calmly threaded a needle. Of how many lives like his had not those fragile old fingers lately held and twisted the thread! Mlle. Angèle preceded him up the stairs. "See," she said, throwing open a door, "here is my sister's bedroom; pray do not hesitate to enter! There is a cupboard on that side; he might be hidden there, might he not? Here is my own room; let me light the candles for you. There is no cupboard in this room--one of its disadvantages. And this is the room the child had; as you see, it could hardly be emptier."