“Bien,” she said aloud, “let them come in,” and added low: “Go out, Jeanne, and watch for my daughter; warn her not to return.”
While speaking, she slipped the papers under the embroidered cover of a small work-table by which she sat; on this she set a work-basket, took out a half-finished bit of embroidery, and was calmly engaged with it when the officers appeared at the door, bowed, and entered.
“We wish to see Madame René de Z——,” said one, the superior; “and, as we know she is in this house, any attempt to conceal her will only make matters more grave for her and for you. You are her mother, I believe, Madame de X——, n’est-ce pas?”
Madame de X——, with well-feigned astonishment, stared at the speaker before replying: “I am Madame de X——, Monsieur, but my daughter is not here.”
“Good! You will not be advised; then we must search the house.”
“Monsieur, I have no power and no wish to prevent you; but may I ask why you wish to see my daughter?”
Without replying, the officer, who had been speaking French, said something in German to his companion. The latter retired, and going below, called in two of the soldiers on guard without. With these he began a systematic search of the house, from cellar to garret. Every cupboard, drawer, and wardrobe was opened and ransacked, every bed and table looked under; even garments hanging in wardrobes were taken out and examined, as was afterwards related with much amazement by the maid, who imagined that Madame de Z—— was the sole object of their search!
Meanwhile the officer who had addressed Madame de X—— remained behind, standing with hat on, his small blue eyes fixed keenly on her refined, naturally pale face, which wore a serenely dignified expression of troubled wonderment. Her white hair, beautifully dressed, the lines of sorrow that marked her well-bred countenance, and her mourning raiment dignified the rôle of innocence she played with admirable ability, while her nerves were strained to their utmost tension by the knowledge that proof of her guilt lay within reach of this man’s hand!
“You ask why I wish to see your daughter,” he said when they were alone. “Good! I shall tell you: your daughter, Madame, is a spy!”
He watched the effect of this purposely abrupt statement and saw a look of shocked amazement come to his hearer’s face.