"For a few minutes. I talked so long with the Prioress that it was late before I reached the Prefecture. He had been to Paris. He explained all that tissue of rascality to the Emperor, so that no blame might fall on the wrong shoulders. Luckily His Majesty disliked Ratoneau; the man smoked and swore too much to please him."
"But after all," Anne said thoughtfully, "the Prefect drew up those papers himself, if he did not send them. And you, Urbain—"
He waved his hand sadly, impatiently. "No more of me, I am punished enough," he said. "I thought I was acting for everybody's good—but alas!—Yes, De Mauves drew up the papers, and then repented. He threw them into a drawer, and determined at least to delay sending them till circumstances and Ratoneau should force his hand further. Then came his illness; recovering, he believed the papers to be safe in his bureau, and left this affair, with many others, to arrange itself later. In the meanwhile, the rascal Simon had corrupted his foolish young secretary and stolen the papers—you know the rest. I suppose we should be glad that he found out in time—"
"Can any one be otherwise than glad?" Anne said gravely.
"Yes, my dear, there are those who are very sorry. And—before you blame them too hardly, remember that Angelot's marriage was the immediate cause of Joseph's death."
"The wickedness of a wicked man is alone to be blamed for that," said Anne. "Hélène's marriage with such an unspeakable wretch would have been a worse thing still."
Urbain sighed, and did not answer. Presently, gazing into the fire, while Anne watched him with intent, questioning eyes, he said, "It appears that the Emperor is a little angry with Hervé for his hurried action, though he does not object to its consequence, being good enough to say that he values me and my influence in this country. But he does not like to be treated as a tyrant. De Mauves thinks that Adélaïde will not have the post of lady-in-waiting. It is a pity; she had set her heart on it."
Anne shrugged her shoulders slightly; it was beyond her power, being a truthful woman, to express any sympathy with Adélaïde. It was her coldest little voice that said, "Have you been to Lancilly to-day?"
"Yes," her husband answered.
"Did you see Adélaïde?"