She began that little song, the music of which I shall never forget, although I am no great hand at carrying a tune. “Humph!” said the old man. “You did not go to the masked ball?” “No, Monsieur, I was tired. I have been reading in the library and have but recently come here.” “There was no one in the anteroom when you entered?” “No one, sir.” “Have you been in the room beyond since you came up?” “Not yet.” “Éspiau!” “Monsieur le Duc!” “Examine yonder chamber. It may be some thief has concealed himself there.” The Duke turned his head away to survey the room and Mademoiselle shot one glance, pregnant with agony and entreaty, at the old servant. He had been as a father to her from childhood—indeed, he had been her father’s foster-brother. “Very well, Monsieur le Duc,” answered the servant. I heard him crossing the room. What should I do? There was no place of concealment. The window happened to be barred, else I should have thrown myself from it. Should I fall upon him and run my sword through him? I drew the weapon, without making a sound, and waited. The door opened slowly and only partially, Éspiau saw me at once. He put his finger to his lips and closed his eyes. “I see no one, Monsieur le Duc,” he said, turning his head. “Examine thoroughly,” returned the old man. Éspiau stepped into the room, looked under the bed, shook the curtains, making a deal of noise as he moved about, managing to say to me: “Silence, as you value your life!” Presently he returned to the others. I breathed a long sigh of relief. I remember wiping the sweat from my brow. “Monsieur le Duc was doubtless mistaken,” said the old man quietly. “Yes,” said the Duke; “I’m glad of it. Times are in such disorder. There are many masterless men about, and your apartment is easy of access from the garden. I must change it, Countess.” “At your pleasure, grandfather,” said Mademoiselle, and then she actually began to sing that little love song again. The courage of that girl was superb! It made me love her more madly than before. “I am glad to find you home,” said the Duke, “for I have brought you some papers which require your signature. I intended to leave them until morning, but unless you feel inclined to retire——” “No, Monsieur, I never felt so wide awake in my life,” answered Mademoiselle. “Good! I will leave them here then. Éspiau will explain them to you, and we can finish the discussion in the morning. I am tired and feel the need of rest. Good night.” “Good night, grandfather,” said Mademoiselle; “may you rest well.” “Good night, my child,” said the old man, relaxing for the moment the formality of his address as he took her hand, drew her toward him, pressed a kiss upon her forehead, bowed to her as to a queen and walked away. The two left within the boudoir moved not until the echo of the Duke’s footsteps died away in the distance of the corridor.