"Calm, my master!" exclaimed Perigord, throwing himself at the feet of his patron; "who could be calm when such dreadful things are happening? Ah, monsieur, it is not for my poor self that I come to you; it is to plead for my unhappy young master, who, if you do not take some steps, will fall a victim to a most horrible scheme." "Are you mad, Perigord?" said the marquis, somewhat irritated at such an interference in his domestic affairs by a person of that kind. "What silly nonsense is this?" "It is no silly nonsense, monsieur. If you will but deign to listen to me I can prove beyond doubt that a dreadful plot, of which you cannot be aware, threatens not only poor Monsieur Isidore's happiness, but his very life--that madame the baroness, before she came back from St. Sulpice yesterday, sent off M. de Crillon with a _lettre de cachet_ to Nantes, whither the young marquis has gone with his bride. Ah, monsieur, those terrible _lettres de cachet_! You know, we all know, what they mean. Alas, alas! my poor young master! He is lost if you will not save him." Just for a moment the marquis fancied that all this might be only an exaggeration of the simple facts which he already knew; but Madame de Valricour had said nothing to him of having been at St. Sulpice, nothing about an actual marriage, nothing about a _lettre de cachet_ even against Marguerite, much less against his own son. He began to be troubled. "My good Perigord," said he, "I am afraid your zeal has outrun your discretion, but I can pardon you even if your attachment to me and mine has led you into some little extravagance. The thing can, however, be soon tested. How do you know that the baroness has been at St. Sulpice? Have you anything to show that your story about my son's marriage is not a mere idle rumour? How can you know anything about the _lettre de cachet_ that you talk of?" And as he asked the questions the marquis quite regained his usual calmness and self-possession, which had for a moment been disturbed. Monsieur Perigord was ready with his proofs; and with his master's permission forthwith summoned Michel Greboeuf, who had come to the chateau an hour since. Not only was he able to describe his own conversation with Madame de Valricour, from which her presence at St. Sulpice and her knowledge of the marriage at once became evident, but he stated that he had met at the little village inn a strange man who over his cups had let out that he was in the employ of a M. de Crillon, and that they were looking out for a youngster of quality, who would soon find out to his cost that his master had in his pocket a little document with the signature of His Most Christian Majesty, which would provide him with a lodging for life, if even worse did not befall him.