Then, with a beating heart, she rang her bell, and murmured in a low voice: "Be ready, Flachsinfingen!" . . . Some inarticulate sounds escaped from beneath the table-cloth; the door was opened; Létorière entered, and the lady put her hand upon her weapon. CHAPTER XV THE INTERVIEW This time, also, the metamorphosis of the Marquis was complete. He seemed to be not more than twenty years of age; his chestnut hair, without powder, parted in the middle over his forehead, framed his charming face, candid and ingenuous. He was clothed in black; he dropped his eyes timidly, twirled his hat in his hands with an embarrassed air, and remained near the door without daring to move a step. The _conseillère_, agitated, irritated and threatening, with her hand upon the poniard, expecting to see a bold and brilliant gentleman of audacious mien and free speech, stood stupefied at the appearance of this youth of such rare beauty, who, quite intimidated, seemed to hesitate to approach her. Hardly believing her eyes, and fearing some mistake, Martha said to him sharply: "Are you really the Marquis de Létorière!" "Yes, madame _la conseillère_," replied the Marquis, with a trembling voice, not lifting his eyes, and blushing deeply. "Do you come from France?" "Yes, madame _la conseillère_; I arrived here three days ago." . . . At the sound of this sweet voice, so pure and youthful in tone, Martha's astonishment was doubled; she dropped her poniard, leaned towards the Marquis, and said in a milder voice: "You are, then, the Marquis de Létorière, a party in a lawsuit?" "Yes, madame _la conseillère_". . . "In a lawsuit against the Dukes of Brunswick and Brandenbourg?" "Yes, madame _la conseillère._" Hearing these answers, almost childlike in simplicity, and stammered out timidly, Martha, reassured, rose and took two steps towards the door, saying to the Marquis: "Come nearer, sir!" . . . Létorière, for the first time, raised his great tender and melancholy eyes, looked earnestly at the lady, and then lowered them under his long eyelashes. In her whole life Martha had never encountered a look at once so sweet and so seductive; she was moved, and said to the Marquis, with a sort of quick impatience: "Come nearer, sir! . . . one would say that I frightened you." . . . "Oh, no, madame _la conseillère_; you do not frighten me. . . . 'For the virtuous woman is an excellent gift, and she shall be given to man for his good deeds,' says the Scripture." "He quotes Scripture!" cried Martha, with admiration, her fears quite dispelled. "But I do really intimidate you?"