"But it's hideous, hideous!" cried Hortense, pale as death, her face drawn
with horror.

* * * * *

Half an hour later, Hortense Daniel and Renine left the Chateau de
Halingre. Before their departure, they had gone as far as the ivy-grown
tower, the remains of an old donjon-keep more than half demolished. The
inside was empty. There seemed to have been a way of climbing to the top,
at a comparatively recent period, by means of wooden stairs and ladders
which now lay broken and scattered over the ground. The tower backed
against the wall which marked the end of the park.

A curious fact, which surprised Hortense, was that Prince Renine had
neglected to pursue a more minute enquiry, as though the matter had lost
all interest for him. He did not even speak of it any longer; and, in the
inn at which they stopped and took a light meal in the nearest village, it
was she who asked the landlord about the abandoned chateau. But she learnt
nothing from him, for the man was new to the district and could give her no
particulars. He did not even know the name of the owner.

They turned their horses' heads towards La Mareze. Again and again Hortense
recalled the squalid sight which had met their eyes. But Renine, who was
in a lively mood and full of attentions to his companion, seemed utterly
indifferent to those questions.

"But, after all," she exclaimed, impatiently, "we can't leave the matter
there! It calls for a solution."