“Martial de Sairmeuse.”
Blanche staggered beneath this terrible blow. She was indeed deserted, and deserted, as she supposed, for another.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, “that creature! that creature! I will kill her!”
CHAPTER XL
The twenty-four hours which Blanche had spent in measuring the extent of her terrible misfortune, the duke had spent in raving and swearing.
He had not even thought of going to bed.
After his fruitless search for his son he returned to the chateau, and began a continuous tramp to and fro in the great hall.
He was almost sinking from weariness when his son’s letter was handed him.
It was very brief.