This was the brunette; the other remained behind the balcony, concealed by the flowers, watching attentively through the branches the perron by which M.de Bragelonne had entered the castle.
In the meantime the object of so much laudable curiosity continued his route, following the steps of the maitre d'hotel.

The noise of quick steps, an odor of wine and viands, a clinking of crystal and plates, warned them that they were coming to the end of their course.
The pages, valets and officers, assembled in the office which led up to the refectory, welcomed the newcomer with the proverbial politeness of the country; some of them were acquainted with Raoul, and all knew that he came from Paris.

It might be said that his arrival for a moment suspended the service.

In fact, a page, who was pouring out wine for his royal highness, on hearing the jingling of spurs in the next chamber, turned round like a child, without perceiving that he was continuing to pour out, not into the glass, but upon the tablecloth.
Madame, who was not so preoccupied as her glorious spouse was, remarked this distraction of the page.
"Well ?" exclaimed she.
"Well!" repeated Monsieur; "what is going on then ?" M.de Saint-Remy, who had just introduced his head through the doorway, took advantage of the moment.
"Why am I to be disturbed ?" said Gaston, helping himself to a thick slice of one of the largest salmon that had ever ascended the Loire to be captured between Painboeuf and Saint-Nazaire.
"There is a messenger from Paris.

Oh! but after monseigneur has breakfasted will do; there is plenty of time." "From Paris!" cried the prince, letting his fork fall.