After Diana’s departure, Daumon felt too that he must learn how matters were going on, and going over to the Widow Rouleau’s, he despatched her daughter Francoise to the Chateau de Champdoce, under the pretext that he wanted some money which he had lent to one of the Duke’s servants. He had instructed the girl so cunningly that she had no suspicion of the real end and object of her mission, and set out on it with the most implicit confidence. He had not long to wait for her return, for in about half an hour his messenger returned. “Well,” said he anxiously, “has the scamp sent my money?” “No, sir, I am sorry to say that I could not even get to speak to him.” “How was that? Was he not at Champdoce?” “I cannot even tell you that. Ever since the Duke has been ill, the great gates of the Chateau have been bolted, for it seems that the poor old gentleman is at his last gasp.” “Did you not hear what was the matter with him?” “No, sir, the little I have told you I got from a stable boy, who spoke to me through a grating in the gate, but before he could say ten words Jean came up and sent him off.” “Do you mean Jean, the Duke’s confidential man?” “Just so,” returned the girl, “and very angry he was. He abused the lad and told him to be off to the stables, and then asked, ‘Well, my girl, and pray what do you want?’ I told him that I had come with a message to the man Mechenit; but before I could say any more he broke in with, ‘Well, he isn’t here, you can call again in a month.’” “You silly little fool, was that all you said?” “Not quite, for I said that I must see Mechenit. Then, looking at me very suspiciously, he said, ‘And who sent you here, you little spy?’” The Counsellor started. “Indeed! and what did you say in return?” asked he. “Why, of course I said that you had sent me.” “Yes, yes, that was right.” “And then Jean rubbed his hand over his chin, and looking at me very curiously, said sternly,-- “‘So you have come from the Counsellor, have you? Ah, I see it all, and so shall he one of these days.’” At these words Daumon felt his knees give way under him; but all further questioning was stopped by the appearance of M. de Puymandour on his way to Champdoce. He therefore dismissed Francoise, and awaited the return of this gentleman, from whom he hoped to gain the fullest information regarding the Duke’s malady. The intelligence which he received calmed him a little, and repenting of his treatment of Diana, he went and hung about the gates of the Chateau de Laurebourg, until he was lucky enough to catch sight of the girl in the garden, for her anxiety would not permit her to remain in the house. He beckoned to her, and then said,-- “M. Norbert did not make the dose strong enough. The Duke is as strong as a horse; but it is all right, for should he live, he will be an idiot, and so our end is as much gained as if he had died.” “But why does not Norbert write to me?” asked Diana seriously.