Madame de Saint-Dizier went on:  “The fact which so greatly scandalized the commissary is nothing compared to what I yet have to tell you, gentlemen.  We had searched all parts of the pavilion without finding any one, and were just about to quit the bed-chamber, for we had taken this room the last, when Mrs. Grivois pointed out to us that one of the golden mouldings of a panel did not appear to come quite home to the wall.  We drew the attention of the magistrate to this circumstance; his men examined, touched, felt—­the panel flew open!—­and then—­can you guess what we discovered?  But, no! it is too odious, too revolting; I dare not even—­”

“Then I dare, madame,” said Adrienne, resolutely, though she saw with the utmost grief the retreat of Agricola was discovered; “I will spare your highness’s candor the recital of this new scandal, and yet what I am about to say is in nowise intended as a justification.”

“It requires one, however,” said Madame de Saint-Dizier, with a disdainful smile; “a man concealed by you in your own bedroom.”

“A man concealed in her bedroom!” cried the Marquis d’Aigrigny, raising his head with apparent indignation, which only covered a cruel joy.

“A man! in the bedroom of Mademoiselle!” added Baron Tripeaud.  “I hope this also was inserted in the report.”

“Yes, yes, baron,” said the princess with a triumphant air.

“But this man,” said the doctor, in a hypocritical tone, “must have been a robber?  Any other supposition would be in the highest degree improbable.  This explains itself.”

“Your indulgence deceives you, M. Baleinier,” answered the princess, dryly.

“We knew the sort of thieves,” said Tripeaud; “they are generally young men, handsome, and very rich.”

“You are wrong, sir,” resumed Madame de Saint-Dizier.  “Mademoiselle does not raise her views so high.  She proves that a dereliction from duty may be ignoble as well as criminal.  I am no longer astonished at the sympathy which was just now professed for the lower orders.  It is the more touching and affecting, as the man concealed by her was dressed in a blouse.”

“A blouse!” cried the baron, with an air of extreme disgust; “then he is one of the common people?  It really makes one’s hair stand on end.”

“The man is a working smith—­he confessed it,” said the princess; “but not to be unjust—­he is really a good-looking fellow.  It was doubtless that singular worship which Mademoiselle pays to the beautiful—­”

“Enough, madame, enough!” said Adrienne suddenly, for, hitherto disdaining to answer, she had listened to her aunt with growing and painful indignation; “I was just now on the point of defending myself against one of your odious insinuations—­but I will not a second time descend to any such weakness.  One word only, madame; has this honest and worthy artisan been arrested?”

“To be sure, he has been arrested and taken to prison, under a strong escort.  Does not that pierce your heart?” sneered the princess, with a triumphant air.  “Your tender pity for this interesting smith must indeed be very great, since it deprives you of your sarcastic assurance.”