The reflection made him restless again, and he took his leave.

He went straight to his apartment, where, upon the table of the vestibule, he found a telegram.

It ran (with the date and place) as follows: "I am seriously ill; please to come to me as soon as possible.
V.B." Newman groaned at this miserable news, and at the necessity of deferring his journey to the Chateau de Fleurieres.

But he wrote to Madame de Cintre these few lines; they were all he had time for:-- "I don't give you up, and I don't really believe you give me up.

I don't understand it, but we shall clear it up together.