Victor did not reply.
"Do you hear, Monsieur?"
"Yes, Madame. Our eyes and ears sometimes deceive us, but never the heart."
Madame flung out a hand in protest. "Never mind, Monsieur, what the heart says; it is not worth while."
Victor grew pale. There was a double meaning to this sentence. Anne eyed him anxiously.
A disturbance at the table caught Victor's ear. He saw that the vicomte and the others were proceeding toward the stairs. The vicomte was last to mount. At the landing he stopped, looked down at the group by the chimney, shrugged, and went on.
Maître le Borgne came in from the kitchens. "If the ladies will follow me I will conduct them to their rooms. A fire is under way. The wines and brandy and sugar are on the table; and the warming-pan stands by the chimney."
"Anne," said madame, "go you to the room with the host. I will follow you shortly. I have something to say to Monsieur de Saumaise."
There was a decision in her tones which caused Victor to experience a chill not devoid of dread. If only he could read the face behind the mask!
Anne followed Maître le Borgne upstairs. Victor and madame were alone. He waited patiently for her to speak. She devoted some moments absently to crushing with her boot the stray pieces of charred wood which littered the broad hearthstone.