It's no secret that Louis has liked Adeline ever since the baby deer led her to him. As for Adeline, convention seems to dictate that she manifest no desire of her own until the novel's epilogue, but to treat his "numberless little attentions... as passing civilities." Not a bad policy to adopt in front of Mme. La Motte, who in addition to her suspicions of Adeline as the cause of her husband's mysterious alienation, now looks "with displeasure upon [Louis's] attachment [to Adeline], as an obstacle to the promotion and the fortune she had hoped to see one day enjoyed by her son. On these she rested all her future hopes of prosperity, and regarded the matrimonial alliance which he might form as the only means of extricating his family from their present difficulties." Add to this La Motte's increasing absence and distraction and thus an uneasy month goes by at the Abbey of St. Clair [sic].

Enter the Marquis of Montalt, torches blazing. Actually Peter brings them, to find the Marquis and his retinue crowding the hall, Mme. La Motte in hysterics, and Adeline fainted dead away. Brave Pierre La Motte has secreted himself in a cell beneath the trapdoor where (he tells himself) "I may wait in security, and perhaps hear something of what passes." At first it's all apologies for the intrusion. Adeline is raised from the floor, and the general alarm is dissipated. Then to Mme. La Motte the Marquis turns and says, " 'You are no doubt Madam, ignorant that I am the propietor of this abbey.' She started: 'Be not alarmed, Madam, you are safe and welcome. This ruinous spot has been long abandoned by me, and if it has afforded you a shelter I am happy.' "

"The noble deportment of the strangers, the splendour of their apparel, and, above all this speech, dissipated every remaining doubt of Madame's, and she was giving orders for refreshments to be set before them, when La Motte, who had listened, and was now convinced he had nothing to fear, entered the apartment." And now comes the revelation of a prior association between the Marquis and Pierre La Motte, to the steep disadvantage of the latter and all his family, as the gazes fly: "He advanced toward the Marquis with a complacent air, but, as he would have spoke, the words of welcome faultered on his lips, his limbs trembled, and a ghastly paleness overspread his countenance. The Marquis was little less agitated, and, in the first moment of surprize, put his hand upon his sword, but, recollecting himself, he withdrew it, and endeavoured to obtain a command of features. A pause of agonizing silence ensued. La Motte made some motion towards the door, but his agitated frame refused to support him, and he sunk into a chair, silent and exhausted. The horror of his countenance, together with his whole behaviour, excited the utmost surprize in Madame, whose eyes inquired of the Marquis more than he thought proper to answer: his looks increased, instead of explaining the mystery, and expressed a mixture of emotions, which she could not analyse. Meanwhile she endeavoured to soothe and revive her husband, but he repressed her efforts, and, averting his face, covered it with his hands."