“I love him!—­What is the matter?” she said after a pause.

“He gives up the election.”

Rosalie put her finger to her lip.

“I ask you to be as secret as if it were a confession,” said she before returning to the drawing-room.  “If there is an end of the election, there is an end of the marriage with Sidonie.”

* * * * *

In the morning, on her way to Mass, Mademoiselle de Watteville heard from Mariette some of the circumstances which had prompted Albert’s disappearance at the most critical moment of his life.

“Mademoiselle, an old gentleman from Paris arrived yesterday morning at the Hotel National; he came in his own carriage with four horses, and a courier in front, and a servant.  Indeed, Jerome, who saw the carriage returning, declares he could only be a prince or a milord.”

“Was there a coronet on the carriage?” asked Rosalie.

“I do not know,” said Mariette.  “Just as two was striking he came to call on Monsieur Savarus, and sent in his card; and when he saw it, Jerome says Monsieur turned as pale as a sheet, and said he was to be shown in.  As he himself locked the door, it is impossible to tell what the old gentleman and the lawyer said to each other; but they were together above an hour, and then the old gentleman, with the lawyer, called up his servant.  Jerome saw the servant go out again with an immense package, four feet long, which looked like a great painting on canvas.  The old gentleman had in his hand a large parcel of papers.  Monsieur Savaron was paler than death, and he, so proud, so dignified, was in a state to be pitied.  But he treated the old gentleman so respectfully that he could not have been politer to the King himself.  Jerome and Monsieur Albert Savaron escorted the gentleman to his carriage, which was standing with the horses in.  The courier started on the stroke of three.

“Monsieur Savaron went straight to the Prefecture, and from that to Monsieur Gentillet, who sold him the old traveling carriage that used to belong to Madame de Saint-Vier before she died; then he ordered post horses for six o’clock.  He went home to pack; no doubt he wrote a lot of letters; finally, he settled everything with Monsieur Girardet, who went to him and stayed till seven.  Jerome carried a note to Monsieur Boucher, with whom his master was to have dined; and then, at half-past seven, the lawyer set out, leaving Jerome with three months’ wages, and telling him to find another place.

“He left his keys with Monsieur Girardet, whom he took home, and at his house, Jerome says, he took a plate of soup, for at half-past seven Monsieur Girardet had not yet dined.  When Monsieur Savaron got into the carriage he looked like death.  Jerome, who, of course, saw his master off, heard him tell the postilion ‘The Geneva Road!’”

“Did Jerome ask the name of the stranger at the Hotel National?”