Monte-Leone, perfectly overcome, fell at the Marquise's feet. He was about to confess the unexpected good fortune which had befallen him. He, however, forgot all, and covered the hand which the Marquise abandoned to him with kisses. The Prince de Maulear entered, and appeared surprised but not offended by what he saw. "Do not disturb yourself, dear Count,--I know the meaning of all that, and expected it. But if, however, you are making an exhibition of your despair and misery, you have lost your time; for you will not go. The King places a high estimate on you, and will not forget you. He told me so." XXI.--THE SECRET PANEL. Three hours after the revelation made to M. H---- by his mysterious visitor in the cabinet of the chief of the political police, a man about fifty years of age rang at the door of a room on the second story of a furnished house in Jacob-street. He looked like a substantial citizen with a property of fifty thousand francs--or an income of 2,500 francs at five per cent. The mulberry frock of this man, over a vest of yellow silk, spotted with snuff, and a cravat of white mousseline, with gloves of sea-green, and pantaloons of brown cloth twisted like a cork-screw around his legs, an ivory-headed cane, and all the _et cetera_, might appropriately belong to a shopkeeper, retired from business, living in some _thebaide_ of the streets d'Enfer or Vaugirard, and sustaining their intellects by the leaders of "The White Flag" of Martainville, and by witnessing once a year some chef-d'oeuvre of Picard at the Odeon. We will make no conjectures about the social position of this gentleman,--he will hereafter explain himself. Almost before the bell he rang had ceased to sound, the door was opened by another person. The latter was tall, dark and athletic, so that we would really have taken him for the lover of Mlle. Celestine Crepineau, had he worn the magnificent moustache and voluminous whiskers of the bear-hunter, which the lady admired so much. His costume, too, was different from that of the Spaniard. He wore a blue frock over his chest, at the bottom hole of which was a bit of red ribbon, not a little discolored. "Ah! M. Morisseau," said the inmate of the room, "you are welcome, but late. The dinner is cold. And," added he in a low tone, "the dinner of _a brigand of the Loire_, as they call such fragments of the imperial guard as myself, must be hot, it being too small to eat in any other way." "I think it always excellent, Monsieur _Rhinoceros_," said Morisseau.