The marshal pointed with the steady hand of the practised commander to
the spot at which his keen eye had detected the cavalcade.

"Yonder," he said, "where the pine tree stands up against the sky."

"And how many? I cannot see them, my eyesight fails. I bid you tell me
how many," gasped the Chancellor.

The ambassador looked long.

"There are, as I think, no more than twenty or thirty riders."

Instantly the Chancellor turned and held out his hand.

"We have him," he muttered, withdrawing it again as soon as he saw
that the ambassador did not take it, being occupied gazing under his
palm at the approaching train of riders.

The Lady Sybilla sat silent and watched the company which rode towards
them--with what thoughts in her heart, who shall venture to guess? She
kept her head studiously averted from the Marshal de Retz, and once
when he touched her arm to call attention to something, she shuddered
and moved a little nearer to the Chancellor. Nevertheless, she obeyed
her companion implicitly and without question when he bade her ride
forward with them to receive the Chancellor's guests.

Crichton took it on himself to rally the girl on her silence.

"Of what may you be thinking so seriously?" he said.