Madame de Vaudrey gave a gasp and let her hands fall to her sides. Adèle jumped up, slipped a skein of wool over her mother’s hands, sat on a stool opposite her, and began to wind the wool into a ball. A few seconds later the clatter of hoofs and the clank of sabres came from without. Then a heavy tread was heard in the hall, and a loud voice called for the master of the house. There was a moment’s pause; Jean opened the door, stood on one side, and in a quavering voice announced: "Madame, Monsieur demande——" His voice broke, he could say no more. The ladies looked up, Madame de Vaudrey with pale cheeks and twitching lips, Adèle with unmoved countenance and stony stare. After one glance she placidly resumed her winding; Harry, with his hands in his pockets, strolled over from the window. "Well, my man, what do you want?" he said. The sergeant involuntarily saluted. He looked by no means comfortable. His eyes went from one to another of the silent group. "Monsieur—Mesdames——" he began; then, recovering his self-possession and putting on a swaggering air, he continued: "To resist is vain. The commandant will decide. I have warned you, Mesdames—Monsieur." "It is very good of you," said Harry blandly. "Your boots are marking the carpet; perhaps you will wait outside." The man’s cheeks purpled; without another word he abruptly turned and went out. At the front door he stationed two of his companions, and rode back to meet the advancing troop, the sounds of whose approach were now echoed from the surrounding woods. From the window Harry saw the sergeant make his report to the officer at their head. The commandant smiled and rode on. Two minutes later his spurs rang on the stone steps, and Jean showed him into the room. "Madame, voilà encore un visiteur." In obedience to a hint from Adèle, Madame de Vaudrey rose and made a curtsy. Harry smiled as he saw Adèle’s low mocking obeisance. The officer doffed his cocked hat, laid it with both hands upon his heart, and bowed. "Madame—Mademoiselle—Monsieur," he said. He was a tall, stout, florid man of some forty years, with large nose and bloated cheeks. His costume was very rich, plentifully bedecked with gold lace and decorations, spick and span in all its appointments. "More like a courtier than a soldier," was Harry’s first impression. His few words of salutation had been uttered in a strong German accent.