“Oh! Madame,” cried the maid, “I shall never dare to go and bring that man to you!” “I will go myself then,” said the Countess. “Well said!” put in Thibault, “there spoke a woman worth calling one!” And so saying he slid down into a kind of ravine beside the road, and disappeared. Lisette very nearly fainted. “Lean on me, Mademoiselle,” said the Countess, “and let us walk on; I am anxious to hear what this man has to say to me.” The two women entered the castle by way of the farm; no one had seen them go out, and no one saw them return. On reaching her room, the Countess waited for Lisette to bring up the stranger. Ten minutes had elapsed when the maid hurried in with a pale face. “Ah! Madame,” she said, “there was no need for me to go to fetch him.” “What do you mean?” asked the Countess. “Because he knew his way up as well as I did! And oh! Madame! if you knew what he said to me! That man is the devil, Madame, I feel sure!” “Show him in,” said the Countess. “I am here!” said Thibault. “You can leave us now, my girl,” said the Countess to Lisette. The latter quitted the room and the Countess remained alone with Thibault. Thibault’s appearance was not one to inspire confidence. He gave the impression of a man who had once and for all made up his mind, but it was also easy to see that it was for no good purpose; a Satanic smile played about his mouth, and there was a demoniacal light in his eyes. He had made no attempt to hide his red hairs, but had left them defiantly uncovered, and they hung over his forehead like a plume of flame. But still the Countess looked him full in the face without changing colour. “My maid says that you know the way to my room; have you ever been here before?” “Yes, Madame, once.” “And when was that?” “The day before yesterday.” “At what time?” “From half-past ten till half-past twelve at night.” The Countess looked steadily at him and said: “That is not true.” “Would you like me to tell you what took place?” “During the time you mention?” “During the time I mention.” “Say on,” replied the Countess, laconically. Thibault was equally laconic. “Monsieur Raoul came in by that door,” he said, pointing to the one leading into the corridor, “and Lisette left him here alone. You entered the room by that one,” he continued, indicating the dressing-room door, “and you found him on his knees. Your hair was unbound, only fastened back by three diamond pins, you wore a pink silk dressing-gown, trimmed with lace, pink silk stockings, cloth-of-silver slippers and a chain of pearls round your neck.” “You describe my dress exactly,” said the Countess, “continue.”