Then she bent her glance to the writing, and studied it a moment, what time the man from Paris watched her closely.
Presently she handed it back to him.
"Thank you, monsieur," was all she said.
"You are satisfied that it is in order, mademoiselle ?" he inquired, and a note of mockery too subtle for her or the Seneschal ran through his question.
"I am quite satisfied." Garnache turned to Tressan.

His eyes were smiling, but unpleasantly, and in his voice when he spoke there was something akin to the distant rumble that heralds an approaching storm.
"Mademoiselle," said he, "has received an eccentric education." "Eh ?" quoth Tressan, perplexed.
"I have heard tell, monsieur, of a people somewhere in the East who read and write from right to left; but never yet have I heard tell of any--particularly in France--so oddly schooled as to do their reading upside down." Tressan caught the drift of the other's meaning.

He paled a little, and sucked his lip, his eyes wandering to the girl, who stood in stolid inapprehension of what was being said.
"Did she do that ?" said he, and he scarcely knew what he was saying; all that he realized was that it urged him to explain this thing.
"Mademoiselle's education has been neglected--a by no means uncommon happening in these parts.

She is sensitive of it; she seeks to hide the fact." Then the storm broke about their heads.

And it crashed and thundered awfully in the next few minutes.
"O liar! O damned, audacious liar," roared Garnache uncompromisingly, advancing a step upon the Seneschal, and shaking the parchment threateningly in his very face, as though it were become a weapon of offence.