“Will you permit me to look at the diamond ring, sir?” observed M. de Fontanges.  “The sight of that will identify the whole.”

“There it is, sir,” replied Mr John Forster.

“It is, indeed, that of my poor sister-in-law!” said M. de Fontanges, taking it up to the marquis.  “My brother, it is Louise’s ring!”

“It is,” cried the marquis, passionately, “the ring that I placed in the centre of her corbeille de mariage.  Alas! where is the hand which graced it?” and the marquis retreated to the sofa, and covered his face.

“We have no occasion then to proceed further,” observed Mr John Forster, with emotion.  “The other articles you, of course, recognise?”

“I do,” replied Monsieur de Fontanges.  “My brother had taken his passage in the same vessel, but was countermanded.  Before he had time to select all his own baggage, which was mixed with that of his wife, the ship was blown out to sea, and proceeded on her voyage.  These orders of merit were left with her jewels.”

“I observe,” said the old lawyer, “which I did not when Newton entrusted the packet to my charge, that the linen has not all the same marks; that of the adult is marked L. de M., while that which belonged to the child is marked J. de F. Was it the marquis’s child?”

“It was; the linen of the mother was some belonging to her previous to her marriage.  The maiden name was Louise de Montmorenci; that of the child has the initials of its name, Julie de Fontanges.”

“Humph!  I have my reasons for asking that question,” replied the old lawyer.  “Newton, do me the favour to step to my chambers and open the safe.  You will find in it, on the right-hand side, another small bundle of linen:  bring it here.  Stop, Newton, blow the dust out of the pipe of the key before you put it in, and be careful that it is well inserted before you turn it, or you may strain the wards.  In all other points, you may be as quick as you please.  My lord Marquis’, will you allow me to offer you some refreshment?—­a glass of wine will be of service.  Brother Nicholas, do me the favour to call Amber.”

Newton and Nicholas both departed on their respective missions.  Amber made her appearance.

“Papa,” said Amber, “do you want me?”

“Yes, my dear,” said Mr Forster, handing her the keys; “go down to the cellaret and bring up some wine.  I do not wish the servants to come in just now.”

Amber reappeared with a small tray.  She first handed it to the marquis, who was roused at her voice.

“Papa requests that you will take some wine, sir.  It will be of service to you.”

The marquis, who had looked earnestly in her face when she had spoken, took the wine, and drinking it off, bowed as he replaced the glass.  He then sunk back on the sofa.

When the rap at the door announced the return of Newton, Mr John Forster requested M. de Fontanges, in a low voice, to follow him, and directing Newton, whom they met on the stairs, to return, they proceeded to the dining-parlour.