The stranger, who wore a black velvet mantle and a hat with a high white plumage fastened by a steel loop and button that glittered in the strong sun, approached at an easy gait. When he uncovered to the Countess, Luc recognized, with an angry heart, M. de Richelieu. The Duke marked him with instant and unmistakeable surprise. “Is this your friend, Madame?” he said, in no pleased tone. “You know each other?” asked Carola. “We have a slight acquaintance,” answered the Duke grandly. “One I shall not presume on, Monsieur,” said Luc, burning to think that perhaps M. de Richelieu thought he wished to solicit the benefits he had once refused. “You did not expect to see me nor I you,” replied M. de Richelieu, absolutely composed and courteous, “but our previous knowledge of each other need not interfere with the matter on hand now.” Luc bowed, not at all satisfied. He did not desire any favour, direct or indirect, from M. de Richelieu; he did not like to see him on these terms of intimacy with the Countess; he did not wish such a man introduced into his life. The only thing that kept him from proudly taking his leave was the conviction that both Carola and the Duke had been quite innocent of planning the situation, she being ignorant that M. de Richelieu and he had met before, and the Duke being unaware that her protégé was M. de Vauvenargues. Therefore Luc felt that his refusal to listen to their proposals would be ungrateful to Carola, and put him in a foolish position towards the Duke, who had already gracefully carried off the encounter. The Countess on her part appeared confused; she obviously wondered when these two had met, and why Luc had not mentioned his acquaintance with the Duke. “You know M. le Maréchal!” she exclaimed. “Then my task--to bring you to an understanding of each other--is the lighter.” “I understand M. de Vauvenargues perfectly,” answered M. de Richelieu; and, as if unwilling to prolong the conversation, he turned back towards the house. Luc, regarding him with an habitually keen observation, noticed that he was considerably older than he had appeared on either of the two previous occasions on which Luc had seen him. In the lurid lights of the barn, in the shadowed softness of his own luxurious apartment, he had seemed in his first youth; but now the direct sunbeams that showed the red powder on Carola’s fine skin revealed the face of M. de Richelieu as that of a man of middle age, despite his slender, upright figure and careful dressing. His charm was none the less; his slightly broad countenance wore the same expression of almost irresistible daring gaiety and serene self-confidence. Luc smiled at him in his heart, and so was half won. The three entered the house by a side door and ascended a back staircase. Luc thought the place seemed little used, a great mansion often shut up. He neither saw nor heard servants.