This litter stopped at the threshold of the mysterious house. A veiled lady alighted from it, and disappeared within the door which Ernanton held half open. "Poor fellow!" murmured Chicot, "I was not mistaken; and it was indeed a lady he was waiting for, and so now I shall go to bed." Whereupon Chicot rose, but remained motionless, although standing up. "I am mistaken," he said, "I shall not be able to go to sleep; but I maintain what I was saying, that if I don't sleep it will not be remorse which will prevent me, it will be curiosity; and that is so true what I say in that respect, that if I remain here in my observatory, my mind will only be occupied about one thing, and that is to learn which of our noble ladies honors the handsome Ernanton with her affection. "Far better, then, to remain where I am; since, if I went to bed, I should certainly get up again to return here." And thereupon Chicot resumed his seat. An hour had nearly passed away without our being able to state whether Chicot was engaged in thinking of the unknown lady or Borromée, or whether he was occupied by curiosity or tormented by feelings of remorse, when he fancied he heard the gallop of a horse at the end of the street. Such was indeed the case, for soon after a cavalier, wrapped in his cloak, made his appearance. The cavalier drew up in the middle of the street, and seemed to be looking about him to see where he was. The cavalier then perceived the group which was formed by the litter and its bearers. He drove his horse against them. He was armed, for the rattling of his sword against his spurs could be distinctly heard. The bearers of the litter seemed desirous of barring his passage, but he addressed a few words to them in a low tone of voice, and not only did they withdraw with every mark of respect, but one of them, as he sprang to the ground from his horse, even received the bridle from his hand. The unknown advanced toward the door and knocked loudly. "Well," said Chicot, "I was right in remaining, after all; my presentiments, which told me that something was going to take place, have not deceived me. Here is the husband, poor Ernanton; we shall presently be witness of something serious. "If, however, it be the husband he is very kind to announce his return in so riotous a manner." Notwithstanding the magisterial manner in which the unknown thundered at the door, some hesitation seemed to be shown in opening it. "Open!" cried he who was knocking. "Open! open!" repeated the bearers. "There is no doubt it is the husband," resumed Chicot; "he has threatened the men that he will have them whipped or hanged, and they have declared themselves on his side. "Poor Ernanton, he will be flayed alive. "Oh! oh! I shall not suffer such a thing, however," added Chicot.