This hope was now vanished, and he directed Madame to prepare for the reception of the Marquis. Adeline passed these days in a state of suspense which was now cheered by hope and now darkened by despair. The delay, so much exceeding her expectation, seemed to prove that the illness of the Marquis was dangerous; and when she looked forward to the consequences of his recovery, she could not be sorry that it was so. So odious was the idea of him to her mind, that she would not suffer her lips to pronounce his name, nor make the inquiry of Annette, which was of such consequence to her peace. It was about a week after the receipt of the Marquis's letter that Adeline one day saw from her window a party of horsemen enter the avenue, and knew them to be the Marquis and his attendants. She retired from the window, in a state of mind not to be described, and sinking into a chair, was for some time scarcely conscious of the objects around her. When she had recovered from the first terror which his appearance excited, she again tottered to the window; the party was not in sight, but she heard the trampling of horses, and knew that the Marquis had wound round to the great gate of the abbey. She addressed herself to Heaven for support and protection; and her mind being now somewhat composed, sat down to wait the event. La Motte received the Marquis with expressions of surprise at his long absence; and the latter, merely saying he had been detained by illness, proceeded to inquire for Adeline. He was told she was in her chamber, from whence she might be summoned if he wished to see her. The Marquis hesitated, and at length excused himself, but desired she might be strictly watched. Perhaps, my Lord, said La Motte smiling, Adeline's obstinacy has been too powerful for your passion? you seem less interested concerning her than formerly. O! by no means, replied the Marquis; she interests me if possible, more than ever; so much, indeed, that I cannot have her too closely guarded; and I therefore beg, La Motte, that you will suffer nobody to attend her but when you can observe them yourself. Is the room where she is confined sufficiently secure? La Motte assured him it was; but at the same time expressed his wish that she was removed to the villa. If by any means, said he, she should contrive to escape, I know what I must expect from your displeasure; and this reflection keeps my mind in continual anxiety. This removal cannot be at present, said the Marquis; she is safer here, and you do wrong to disturb yourself with any apprehension of her escape, if her chamber is so secure as you represent it. I can have no motive for deceiving you, my Lord, in this point. I do not suspect you of any, said the Marquis; guard her carefully, and trust me she will not escape. I can rely upon my valet, and if you wish it he shall remain here. La Motte thought there could be no occasion for him, and it was agreed that the man should go home.