She had heard something said about supper.

She had already been an hour in this apartment; they could not long delay bringing her a repast.

The prisoner did not wish to lose time; and she resolved to make that very evening some attempts to ascertain the nature of the ground she had to work upon, by studying the characters of the men to whose guardianship she was committed.
A light appeared under the door; this light announced the reappearance of her jailers.

Milady, who had arisen, threw herself quickly into the armchair, her head thrown back, her beautiful hair unbound and disheveled, her bosom half bare beneath her crumpled lace, one hand on her heart, and the other hanging down.
The bolts were drawn; the door groaned upon its hinges.

Steps sounded in the chamber, and drew near.
"Place that table there," said a voice which the prisoner recognized as that of Felton.
The order was executed.
"You will bring lights, and relieve the sentinel," continued Felton.
And this double order which the young lieutenant gave to the same individuals proved to Milady that her servants were the same men as her guards; that is to say, soldiers.
Felton's orders were, for the rest, executed with a silent rapidity that gave a good idea of the way in which he maintained discipline.
At length Felton, who had not yet looked at Milady, turned toward her.
"Ah, ah!" said he, "she is asleep; that's well.