Words so curiously _a propos_ could not but recall to my mind the confusion into which my mention of Du Hallot had thrown the secretary earlier in the day. And since they seemed also to be consistent with the warning conveyed to me, and indeed to explain it, they should have corroborated my worst suspicions. But a sense of something unreal and fantastic, with which I could not grapple, continued to puzzle me in the presence of this angry woman; and it was with no great assurance that I said, "Do I understand then, Madame, that M. du Hallot is in that room?" [Illustration: "ARE YOU COMING OUT THERE?" _Page 61_.] "M. du Hallot?" she replied, in a tone that was almost a scream. "No; but he would be if he had taken the hint I sent him! He would be! I will have no more secrecy, however, and no more plots. I have suffered enough already, and now Madame shall suffer if she has not forgotten how to blush. Are you coming out there?" she continued, once more applying herself to the door, her face inflamed with passion. "I shall stay! Oh, I shall stay, I assure you. Until morning if necessary!" "But, Madame," I said, beginning to see daylight, and finding words with difficulty--for I already heard in fancy the King's laughter and could conjure up the endless quips and cranks with which he would pursue me--"your warning did not perhaps reach M. du Hallot!" "It reached his coach, at any rate," the scold retorted. "Another time I will have no half-measures. But as for that," she continued, turning on me suddenly with her arms akimbo, and the fiercest of airs, "I would like to know what business it is of yours, Monsieur, whether it reached him or not! I know you--you are in league with my husband! You are here to shelter him, and this Madame du Hallot! But----" At that moment, however, the door at last opened; and M. Nicholas, wearing an aspect so meek and crestfallen that I hardly knew him, came out. He was followed by a young woman plainly dressed, and looking almost as much frightened as himself; in whom I had no difficulty in recognizing Felix's wife. "Why!" Madame Nicholas cried, her face falling. "This is not--who is this? Who--" with increased vehemence--"is this baggage, I would like to know?" "My dear," the secretary protested earnestly, spreading out his hands--fortunately he had eyes only for his wife, and did not see us--"this is one of your ridiculous mistakes! It is, I assure you. This is the wife of a clerk whom I dismissed to-day, and she has been with me begging me to reinstate her husband. That is all. That is all, my dear. You have made this----"