"Concealed fox, come to your master's aid." And slowly he walked toward the door while the baron, in a panic ran to unfasten the monarch's neckpiece and fan him with a music sheet. Louis XVIII opened his terror-stricken eyes and stammered: "Let the man go in peace. See that no harm is done him." Book II THE CASKET Chapter I THE MINIATURE In the long colloquy which Amélie and her father held with their unexpected guest, they planned a voyage to France which should be a tentative effort to master the paths and places leading to their proposed goal. As a matter of precaution, they arranged to have no further meetings in London and to join one another in Dover on a day which should be previously designated. Before leaving, the young Marquis said to his host: "If you wish to make a generous return for a trifling service--give me this picture." His eyes were riveted upon a medallion displaying the face of a lady of patrician beauty, which, with other miniatures, was set in a framing of diminutive chrysolites, stones much used during the eighteenth century and which imitate in a marvelous manner the brilliancy of diamonds. The lady's hair rose in curls above a splendid forehead, enclosed her cheeks and fell upon her shoulders. Roses and feathers surmounted the graceful coiffure and white laces opened at the neck to reveal a perfect throat. "Which of the pictures?" "Amélie's," said René. Naundorff gravely removed the image and pressed it reverently to his lips. Then he handed it to de Brezé, saying in a broken voice: "'Tis not Amélie, but my unhappy, my adored mother." As René, through delicacy, made a movement of refusal, the mechanic said: "To only the Marquis de Brezé would I give this medallion. Farewell, loved image, that has so often rested on my heart. I am almost glad to part with you, for who knows how soon my house will for the hundredth time be rifled and I deprived of the last evidences of my personality, my dearest memories, my real life. I am more tranquil when other hands than mine guard my treasures. Watch over them, René, and over all that I have confided to your keeping. This face will bring Amélie to your eyes, for the resemblance is so remarkable, in spite of the difference in dress, that I do not wonder at your mistake." On reaching the Hotel Douglas, René's first act was to take the miniature from his breast and cover it with kisses. Then, as he gazed upon the face of the dame of 1780, he murmured: "How, in heaven's name, have I taken this face for Amélie! Why 'tis the wretched queen, Marie Antoinette, whom it resembles amazingly." He became thoughtful, and then suddenly felt himself growing weak, almost fainting. The loss of blood began to have effect and he hastened to his bed. Even his curiosity ebbed away. He had not the strength to turn the leaves of the manuscript. Instinct moved him to place it and the casket beneath the mattress.