afternoon in the solitude of
his own room.

That evening he sent two letters to Sairmeuse. One to his father, the
other to his wife.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Terrible as Martial imagined the scandal to be which he had created, his
conception of it by no means equalled the reality.

Had a thunder-bolt burst beneath that roof, the guests at Sairmeuse
could not have been more amazed and horrified.

A shudder passed over the assembly when Martial, terrible in his
passion, flung the crumbled letter full in the face of the Marquis de
Courtornieu.

And when the marquis sank half-fainting into an arm-chair some young
ladies of extreme sensibility could not repress a cry of fear.

For twenty seconds after Martial disappeared with Jean Lacheneur, the
guests stood as motionless as statues, pale, mute, stupefied.

It was Blanche who broke the spell.

While the Marquis de Courtornieu was panting for breath--while the Duc
de Sairmeuse was trembling and speechless with suppressed anger, the
young marquise made an heroic attempt to come to the rescue.

With her hand still aching from Martial's brutal clasp, a heart swelling
with rage and hatred, and a face whiter than her bridal veil, she had
strength to restrain her tears and to compel her lips to smile.

"Really this is placing too much importance on a trifling
misunderstanding which will be explained to-morrow," she said, almost
gayly, to those nearest her.

And stepping into the middle of the hall she made a sign to the
musicians to play a country-dance.

But when the first measures floated through the air, the company, as if
by unanimous consent, hastened toward the door.

One might have supposed the chateau on fire--the guests did not
withdraw, they actually fled.

An hour before, the Marquis de Courtornieu and the Duc de Sairmeuse had
been overwhelmed with the most obsequious homage and adulation.

But now there was not one in that assembly daring enough to take them
openly by the hand.

Just when they believed themselves all-powerful they were rudely
precipitated from their lordly eminence. Disgrace and perhaps punishment
were to be their portion.

Heroic to the last, the bride endeavored to stay the tide of retreating
guests.

Stationing herself near the door, with her most bewitching smile upon
her lips, Madame Blanche spared neither flattering words nor entreaties
in her efforts to reassure the deserters.

Vain attempt! Useless sacrifice! Many ladies we