CHAPTER IV.
BARON VON MOUDENFELS.
Colonel Mariage, alone in his room, was pacing restlessly up and down, with his eyes fixed intently, almost anxiously, upon the door.
"The appointed hour has come and he is not here," he murmured in a low tone.

"Has suspicion been roused, and have they arrested him?
Oh, God forbid! then we should all be lost, for we are all compromised, and letters from me, also, would be found among his papers." At this moment the door was softly opened and the servant announced "Baron von Moudenfels." "He is welcome, heartily welcome!" cried the colonel joyfully, swiftly advancing toward the door, through which the person announced had just entered the room.

It was an old man with a long white beard, his head covered with a large wig, whose stiff, powdered locks adorned the temples on both sides of his pale, emaciated face.

Thick, bushy brows shaded a pair of large dark eyes, whose youthful fire formed a strange contrast to the bowed frame and the white hair.

His figure, which must once have been stately and vigorous, was attired in the latest fashion, and the elegance of his dress showed that Baron von Moudenfels, though a man perhaps seventy, had not yet done with the vanities of this world, but was ready to pay them homage.