And the packet
was sealed with the Vidame's crest, a wolf's head.
"The coward! the miserable coward!" Croisette cried. He was
the first to read the meaning of the thing. And his eyes were
full of tears--tears of rage.
For me I was angry exceedingly. My veins seemed full of fire, as
I comprehended the mean cruelty which could thus torture a girl.
"Who delivered this?" I thundered. "Who gave it to
Mademoiselle? How did it reach her hands? Speak, some one!"
A maid, whimpering in the background, said that Francis had given
it to her to hand to Mademoiselle.
I ground my teeth together, while Marie, unbidden, left the room
to seek Francis--and a stirrup leather. The Vidame had brought
the note in his pocket no doubt, rightly expecting that he would
not get an audience of my cousin. Returning to the gate alone he
had seen his opportunity, and given the note to Francis, probably
with a small fee to secure its transmission.
Croisette and I looked at one another, apprehending all this.
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