He saw them and shuffled over.

"Ha, Madame," he said, "he has the will, and I've not done with you yet
--you'll see." Then, shaking a fist in Madelinette's face, he clattered
off into the darkness.

They crossed the street, and Madame Marie knocked at Fournel's door. It
was at once opened, and Madelinette announced herself. The servant
stared stonily at first, then, as she mentioned her name and he saw her
face, he suddenly became servile, and asked them into a small waiting-
room. Monsieur Fournel was at home, and should be informed at once of
Madame's arrival.

A few moments later the servant, somewhat graver, but as courteous still,
came to say that Monsieur would receive her in his library. Madelinette
turned towards Madame Marie. The servant understood.

"I shall see that the lady has refreshment," he said. "Will Madame
perhaps care for refreshment--and a mirror, before Monsieur has the
honour?--Madame has travelled far."

In spite of the anxiety of the moment and the great matters at stake,
Madelinette could not but smile. "Thank you," she said, "I hope I'm not
so unpresentable."

"A little dust here and there perhaps, Madame," he said, with humble
courtesy.

Madelinette was not so heroical as to undervalue the suggestion. Lives
perhaps were in the balance, but she was a woman, and who could tell what