y, then, at the usual hour, rang for her maid.

It was nearly eleven o'clock, and she was just completing her toilet,
when the ringing of the bell announced a visitor.

Almost immediately a maid appeared, evidently in a state of great
excitement.

"What is it?" inquired Blanche, eagerly. "Who has come?"

"Ah, Madame--that is, Mademoiselle, if you only knew----"

"_Will_ you speak?"

"The Marquis de Sairmeuse is below, in the blue drawing-room; and he
begs Mademoiselle to grant him a few moments' conversation."

Had a thunder-bolt riven the earth at the feet of the murderess, she
could not have been more terrified.

"All must have been discovered!" this was her first thought. That alone
would have brought Martial there.

She almost decided to reply that she was not at home, or that she
was extremely ill; but reason told her that she was alarming herself
needlessly, perhaps, and that, in any case, the worst was preferable to
suspense.

"Tell the marquis that I will be there in a moment," she replied.

She desired a few minutes of solitude to compose her features, to regain
her self-possession, if possible, and to conquer the nervous trembling
that made her shake like a leaf.

But just as she was most disquieted by the thought of her peril, a
sudden inspiration brought a malicious smile to her lip.

"Ah!" she thought, "my agitation will seem perfectly natural. It may
even be made of service."

As she descended the grand staircase, she could not help saying to
herself:

"Martial's presence here is incomprehensible."

It was certainly very extraordinary; and it had not been without much
hesitation that he resolved upon this painful step.

But it was the only means of procuring several important documents which
were indispensable in the revision of M. d'Escorval's case.

These documents, after the baron's condemnation, had been left in the
hands of the Marquis de Courtornieu. Now that he had lost his reason, it
was impossible to ask him for them; and Martial was obliged to apply
to the daughter for permission to search for them among her father's
papers.

This was why Martial said to himself that morning:

"I will carry the baron's safe-conduct to Marie-Anne, and then I will
push on to Courtornieu."

He arrived at the Borderie gay and confident, his heart full of hope.
Alas! Marie-Anne was dead.

No one would ever know what a terrible blow it had been to Martial; and
his conscience told him that h