"I am sorry," Tom rejoined, "that I must disappoint you. Circumstances over which the Marquis has no control will deprive him of the pleasure of seeing you this morning."
"Ah!" exclaimed Madame de la Fontaine, "I was right then. Monsieur le Marquis is, shall we say, in confinement?"
"As you please, madam; as safe, for the time, as is my friend Dan Frost."
"Eh bien, monsieur! It is that you have—do you not say?—turned the tables upon us?"
"Precisely, madam," assented Tom.
"And you will not permit me even a word—ever so little a word—with my poor friend?" murmured Madame de la Fontaine plaintively.
"Again I am sorry to refuse you, madam; but—not even a little word."
"So! Mais oui, I am not greatly surprised. I was assured last night...."
"When you did not see the signals?" suggested Tom quickly.
"When I did not see the signals," repeated the lady, with a glance of the briefest enquiry, "I was assured that something had befallen Monsieur le Marquis. Mais vraiment, monsieur, you do us much dishonour in assuming a wicked conspiracy on our parts. The Marquis is my friend; he is also the friend of the charming Mademoiselle. All that we wish, all that we would do is as much in her interest as in his own. But it is impossible that my old friend shall remain in confinement. On what condition, monsieur, will you release the Marquis de Boisdhyver?"