Ambroisine walked forward with a confident step, although, in the depths of her heart, she was intensely excited. Then came the master bath keeper, who entered the hall with a respectful demeanor, cap in hand, saluting all the servants and even the articles of furniture as he passed, because the magnificence of the hôtel made a profound impression upon him. Old Hector stepped forward at once to meet the young women, and escorted them to one side of the hall, where he gave them seats, saying: "Pray be seated; monsieur le marquis will come very soon. Pray be seated, and your companion also." Bathilde and her friends had been in the hall hardly five minutes, afraid to do more than exchange a few words in whispers, when another door opened and the Marquis de Marvejols entered, accompanied by two gentlemen, one of whom, almost as old as the marquis, had a venerable, benevolent face which inspired respect and confidence; while the other, who was much younger, had a noble, severe expression, and a glance that seemed determined to read one's inmost heart. "That is the marquis!" whispered Ambroisine to Bathilde; but she, instead of looking up, cast her eyes on the floor and felt as if she were about to swoon. She rose, however, on the entrance of the three gentlemen, as did her friend and Master Hugonnet. The new-comers bowed graciously to the persons who were in the hall before them; and the marquis, walking forward alone toward Ambroisine, said to her, looking at Bathilde: "This is your friend?" "Yes, monseigneur." Bathilde tottered; fear and excitement made her heart beat furiously. But, despite her prostration and her extreme pallor, her beautiful and refined features were still fascinating, and the old man seemed impressed by the sweetness and charm of her face. He gazed at her a few seconds in silence, then placed his hand on the girl's arm and said: "Do not tremble, my child; calm your emotion; you are not here as an accused person." With that, the marquis returned to the two gentlemen who had come with him, and they all took their seats in the armchairs at the end of the hall. In a moment a man clad in the black costume then worn by men of the law took his place in front of the table, on which papers and parchments were strewn. Old Hector appeared at one of the doors and made a slight motion with his head to his master, who said: "You may admit him now." Hector left the hall by the door through which Bathilde and her friends had entered; a few moments later, a man appeared at that door; he was pale and his emotion was apparent, but his glance was stern. He had donned his old uniform, which he had ceased to wear except on solemn occasions. He carried his head erect, and his step was firm as he walked into the hall without turning his eyes in the direction of Bathilde, who shuddered at sight of him, and hid her face against Ambroisine's bosom, murmuring: "My father! it is my father!"