son it.

He had quietly prepared everything beforehand. What he most desired was
something unspeakably abrupt. The work on which he was engaged could
only be expressed in these strange words--the construction of a
thunderbolt.

All preliminaries being complete, he had watched till all the necessary
legal formalities had been accomplished. The secret had not oozed out,
silence being an element of law.

The confrontation of Hardquanonne with Gwynplaine had taken place.
Barkilphedro had been present. We have seen the result.

The same day a post-chaise belonging to the royal household was suddenly
sent by her Majesty to fetch Lady Josiana from London to Windsor, where
the queen was at the time residing.

Josiana, for reasons of her own, would have been very glad to disobey,
or at least to delay obedience, and put off her departure till next day;
but court life does not permit of these objections. She was obliged to
set out at once, and to leave her residence in London, Hunkerville
House, for her residence at Windsor, Corleone Lodge.

The Duchess Josiana left London at the very moment that the wapentake
appeared at the Tadcaster Inn to arrest Gwynplaine and take him to the
torture cell of Southwark.

When she arrived at Windsor, the Usher of the Black Rod, who guards the
door of the presence chamber, informed her that her Majesty was in
audience with the Lord Chancellor, and could not receive her until the
next day; that, consequently, she was to remain at Corleone Lodge, at
the orders of her Majesty; and that she should receive the queen's
commands direct, when her Majesty awoke the next morning. Josiana
entered her house feeling very spiteful, supped in a bad humour, had the
spleen, dismissed every one except her page, then dismissed him, and
went to bed while it was yet daylight.

When she arrived she had learned that Lord David Dirry-Moir was expected
at Windsor the next day, owing to his having, whilst at sea, received
orders to return immediately and receive her Majesty's commands.

CHAPTER III.

AN AWAKENING.

"No man could pass suddenly from Siberia into Senegal without
losing consciousness."--HUMBOLDT.

The swoon of a man, even of one the most firm and energetic, under the
sudden shock of an unexpected stroke of good fortune, is nothing
wonderful. A man is knocked down by the unforeseen blow, like an ox by
the poleaxe. Francis d'Albescola, he who tore from the Turkish ports
their i