‘Who hurries them round to the legitimate king again!’ said Madame d’Auffray.

Renee cast her chin up.  ‘How, my dear?’

‘Your husband.’

‘What of him?’

‘He is returning.’

‘What brings him?’

’You should ask who, my Renee!  I was sure he would not hear of M. Beauchamp’s being here, without an effort to return and do the honours of the chateau.’

Renee looked hard at her, saying, ’How thoughtful of you!  You must have made use of the telegraph wires to inform him that M. Beauchamp was with us.’

‘More; I made use of them to inform him that M. Beauchamp was expected.’

’And that was enough to bring him!  He pays M. Beauchamp a wonderful compliment.’

’Such as he would pay to no other man, my Renee.  Virtually it is the highest of compliments to you.  I say that to M. Beauchamp’s credit; for Raoul has met him, and, whatever his personal feeling may be, must know your friend is a man of honour.’

‘My friend is . . . yes, I have no reason to think otherwise,’ Renee replied.  Her husband’s persistent and exclusive jealousy of Beauchamp was the singular point in the character of one who appeared to have no sentiment of the kind as regarded men that were much less than men of honour.  ‘So, then, my sister Agnes,’ she said, ’you suggested the invitation of M. Beauchamp for the purpose of spurring my husband to return!  Apparently he and I are surrounded by plotters.’

‘Am I so very guilty?’ said Madame d’Auffray.

’If that mad boy, half idiot, half panther, were by chance to insult M. Beauchamp, you would feel so.’

’You have taken precautions to prevent their meeting; and besides, M. Beauchamp does not fight.’

Renee flushed crimson.

Madame d’Auffray added, ’I do not say that he is other than a perfectly brave and chivalrous gentleman.’

‘Oh!’ cried Renee, ’do not say it, if ever you should imagine it.  Bid Roland speak of him.  He is changed, oppressed:  I did him a terrible wrong . . . .’  She checked herself.  ’But the chief thing to do is to keep M. d’Henriel away from him.  I suspect M. d’Orbec of a design to make them clash:  and you, my dear, will explain why, to flatter me.  Believe me, I thirst for flattery; I have had none since M. Beauchamp came:  and you, so acute, must have seen the want of it in my face.  But you, so skilful, Agnes, will manage these men.  Do you know, Agnes, that the pride of a woman so incredibly clever as you have shown me you are should resent their intrigues and overthrow them.  As for me, I thought I could command M. d’Henriel, and I find he has neither reason in him nor obedience.  Singular to say, I knew him just as well a week back as I do now, and then I liked him for his qualities—­or the absence of any.  But how shall we avoid him on the road to Dianet?  He is aware that we are going.’

‘Take M. Beauchamp by boat,’ said Madame d’Auffray.