The reason why the young duke had not yet made his appearance was one of policy.  He had taken especial pains to show himself at Saint Germain on the day of the abduction—­had joined the royal hunting party, and been exceedingly and unwontedly affable to all who happened to come in contact with him.  In the evening he had played at cards, and lost ostentatiously sums that would have been of importance to a less wealthy man—­being all the time in a very genial mood—­especially after the arrival of a mounted messenger, who brought him a little note.  Thus the duke’s desire to be able to establish an incontestable alibi, in case of need, had spared Isabelle thus far the infliction of his hated presence; but while she was congratulating herself upon it, and welcoming the sunshine that streamed into her room, she heard the drawbridge being let down, and immediately after a carriage dashed over it and thundered into the court.  Her heart sank, for who would be likely to enter in that style save the master of the house?  Her face grew deathly pale, she reeled, and for one dreadful moment felt as if she should faint; but, rallying her courage, she reminded herself that Chiquita had gone to bring de Sigognac to her aid, and determined afresh to meet bravely whatever trials might be in store for her, until her beloved knight and champion should arrive, to rescue her from her terrible danger and irksome imprisonment.  Her eyes involuntarily sought the portrait over the chimney-piece, and after passionately invoking it, and imploring its aid and protection, as if it had been her patron saint, she felt a certain sense of ease and security, as if what she had so earnestly entreated would really be accorded to her.

A full hour had elapsed, which the young duke had employed in the duties of the toilet, and in snatching a few minutes of repose after his rapid night-journey, when the major-domo presented himself, and asked respectfully if Isabelle would receive the Duke of Vallombreuse.

“I am a prisoner,” she replied, with quiet dignity, “and this demand, which would be fitting and polite in any ordinary case, is only a mockery when addressed to one in my position.  I have no means of preventing your master’s coming into this room, nor can I quit it to avoid him.  I do not accept his visit but submit to it.  He must do as he pleases about it, and come and go when he likes.  He allows me no choice in the matter.  Go and tell him exactly what I have said to you.”

The major-domo bowed low, and retired backward to the door, having received strict orders to treat Isabelle with the greatest respect and consideration.  In a few minutes he returned, and announced the Duke of Vallombreuse.

Isabelle half rose from her chair by the fire, but turned very pale and fell back into it, as her unwelcome visitor made his appearance at the door.  He closed it and advanced slowly towards her, hat in hand, but when he perceived that she was trembling violently, and looked ready to faint, he stopped in the middle of the room, made a low bow, and said in his most dulcet, persuasive tones: