"Bon jour, madame. I hope you have recovered the fatigue of your night's journey. You see I lose no time in hastening to bid you welcome."
So cried Monsieur Le Prun, with a sardonic grin upon his pale face, as he bowed to the horror-stricken girl, who still occupied the little window, where she expected so different an image.
She fled from this spectre as if she had seen the Evil One incarnate. Flying wildly through the passages and chambers of the deserted house, she found herself on a sudden in an apartment furnished like an office, with shelves, desks, &c., and here Blassemare was sitting among a pile of papers. He started on seeing her, and she exclaimed:
"Monsieur Le Prun has seen me—he will be here in a moment."
"Here!—where is he?"
"He saw me in the window, and spoke to me with furious irony from the street. For God's sake, hide me. I feel that he will kill me."
"Hum!—so. Gad, he will be here in a moment. I must meet him boldly—I have nothing for it but impudence. A few fibs, and, if the worst should come, my sword. But don't be frightened, madame, he shan't hurt you."
Blassemare proceeded to the court, awaiting the advent of his incensed patron.
XVI.—THE WOMAN IN FLANNEL.
We must now, with the reader's leave, follow Gabriel to Paris, where he arrived fully three hours later than the fugitive cortège. He wandered for more than an hour among the streets, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the coach with the blue panels, and the golden cupids and dragons so curiously interlaced; but we need not say how vainly.