Conde listened attentively, stopping me now and then to ask some searching question, and evidently considerably puzzled by the whole affair.

"If this be true," said he at last, "it seems that Mazarin had nothing to do with the plot. But there is one point which still requires explanation. If you were not there, how could the mob have followed you to the house?"

"They did not follow me, but were led by two of my enemies."

"Who were they?"

"One was Baron Maubranne dressed as a charcoal-burner, and him I killed."

"Who was the other?"

"M. Peleton, disguised as a mason. He kept out of my way, the coward!"

"_Corbleu!_" exclaimed Conde, laughing, "that showed his discretion.

Now, M. de Lalande, I am going to think over this extraordinary story.

Meanwhile you must return to the Bastille. It is not exactly a pleasant residence, but it is above all things safe. True, the Governor will keep out your friends, but I will take care that he does not admit your enemies. By the way, who is this M. Beauchamp of whom you have spoken?"

"An officer in the household of the Duke of Orleans."

"Ah, well, I shall be visiting the Luxembourg in a day or two, and I may meet him."

Summoning the officer, who had remained on guard just inside the door, he directed that I should be driven back to the Bastille without delay; and thus my night adventure ended.

It was early morning when we reached the famous prison, but my gaoler received me with a cheerful smile.

"I hope monsieur's journey has proved a pleasant one," said he, for, of course, he had watched the departure of the carriage.

"It has not been amiss," I answered, "and it may help to prove my innocence. At any rate, it was more agreeable than a visit to the torture chamber," and I began to undress.

The interview with Conde had raised my spirits, and I felt more cheerful than at any time since my arrest. Although doubtful at first, he was evidently impressed by my story, and for his own sake would endeavour to unravel the mystery. I had, however, to exercise considerable patience. Another week pa.s.sed wearily enough, and during the whole of that time no whisper reached me from the outside world. I was left entirely to my imagination, and even Gaston of Orleans could not have changed his mind as many times as I did during that period.

At one moment I felt sure of freedom; the next I listened to the roar of the hungry mob a.s.sembled to witness my execution. I turned hot and cold at every sound; now fancying the gaoler was coming to set me at liberty, again that he was bringing news of my condemnation.

One morning after breakfast I was sitting daydreaming as usual, when the door was opened, and the turnkey requested me to finish dressing and follow him.

"What is it now?" I inquired anxiously.

"An order to attend the Council Chamber, monsieur."

"Am I to receive my freedom?"

"I cannot tell, but there are no soldiers below, which is not a bad sign."

I knew my way by now, and followed my gaoler briskly down the staircase to the chamber. The four councillors were there, standing together, and near them was Conde himself.

"Well, M. de Lalande, did you expect to see me again?" he asked.

"I hoped to do so, your Highness."

"Then you do not fear my discoveries? Well, I have inquired into your story, and am inclined to believe you spoke the truth. For one thing, M. Peleton has disappeared."

"Then he has received a warning, your Highness."

"That is possible, as he may know too much. Still, without his evidence I cannot probe to the bottom of this affair. Now I am going to make you a proposal. If I set you at liberty, will you find this M.

Peleton and bring him to me? His arrest is necessary, you understand, in order to clear your own character."

"Then I shall be the more anxious to discover him, your Highness."

"Very well; and remember, it must be done without noise or fuss, by yourself and your friends. If my fresh suspicions are correct, he has powerful patrons whom I have no desire to ruffle for the present. So it must be your private affair, and you take all the risks."

"I will do that willingly."

"So I expected," said he, laughing, and at once directed the weazened councillor to make out my paper of discharge. Having fulfilled certain formalities, I was escorted beyond the five gates and set at liberty.

It was strange what an unfamiliar aspect the streets of the city at first bore. I stood for a time perplexed by the change from the gloomy Bastille, bewildered by the noise of the traffic, and scarcely knowing which direction to take. Wandering on aimlessly, I at length found myself on the Quai Henry IV., and, keeping steadily along past the Hotel de Ville, reached the head of the Pont Neuf. Turning off here, I was soon in the familiar net-work of streets near the Palais Royal, and presently entered the Rue des Catonnes.

My landlord, who would hardly have raised an eyebrow in the midst of an earthquake, made no comment on my long absence, but, merely observing that monsieur would perhaps like something to eat, disappeared.

Going to my room, I removed my sword, which had been returned to me on leaving the Bastille, and sat down. In a short time my worthy host brought some food, for which I was really grateful, and I asked cheerfully if any one had called at the house to inquire for me.

"A soldier of the Queen's Guards who comes every evening, monsieur. He is a foreigner, I think, he speaks French so badly."

"Ah, an Englishman, a fine fellow, and my very good friend."

"There is also a young cavalier who comes from the Luxembourg to inquire if you have returned. He it was who informed me that monsieur had gone into the country."

"And they come every evening?"

"Without fail, monsieur."

"Then be sure to send them up the instant they arrive."

About six o'clock, observing Raoul approach the house, I withdrew quickly from the window, so that he might be taken the more completely by surprise. Suddenly the footsteps ceased, and I heard my friend putting his question to the landlord. The answer was not distinguishable, but it produced a remarkable effect. There was a rush and a clatter on the stairs, the door of my room was opened quickly, and Raoul threw himself into my arms.

"Albert," he cried, "I began to fear we should never see you again.

You are too venturesome, my dear fellow. Listen! What is that? Ah!

here is your English friend, and mine, too, now. He is a splendid fellow."

"Back again, my friend!" cried John Humphreys, as he entered the room.

"You have had a long holiday this time."

"Longer than was agreeable," I answered, laughing, "but sit down and tell me the news; I am dying with curiosity."

"So are we," observed Raoul; "we want to know all that has happened to you."

"Didn't the story get abroad?"

"Only a little. We heard you were suspected of leading the attack on Conde. In fact, there were people who swore they saw you fire, though, naturally, I knew that was rubbish."