ortly afterwards Raoul arrived.

"No news?" cried the latter, noticing my gloomy looks. "Well, there is
no need to despair. I have so arranged that Peleton will find it
difficult to slip through the gates, and I have heard something of your
cousin. Young D'Arcy met him last evening in the Rue de Roi."

"Then he has taken up his old quarters in La Boule d'Or and hidden
Peleton there!" I exclaimed; but Raoul shook his head.

"Conde's troopers have searched the house by now, and no doubt a watch
is set. Still, we might walk that way."

"Have you told Armand the story?"

"Yes, he can be trusted; and he has a host of acquaintances."

"Very well, let us go down to the Rue de Roi;" then, turning to
Humphreys, I remarked, "we may have need of our swords to-night."

We had only just turned the corner of the street, when Raoul exclaimed,
"Why, there is D'Arcy! Armand, here is an old friend who will be glad
to see you."

"De Lalande! So they have let you out of the Bastille? Conde made a
mistake. He should have kept you behind the bars till the trouble is
at an end. You will soon be running into fresh mischief. Where are
you going now?"

"On a voyage of discovery," said Raoul. "Will you come?"

"Gladly! The times are out of joint, and I have nothing to do."

I introduced him to Humphreys, and we went on together to the Rue de
Roi. Leaving us at the corner, to watch, Raoul crossed the road and
boldly entered the famous inn. The street was crowded with people,
and, lest some chance passer-by might recognise me, I muffled my face,
and leaned against the wall, while Armand and John Humphreys stood a
short distance off.

Raoul was absent a long time, and we began to fidget, but presently he
came out and made his way toward us.

"We are on a false scent," he said; "our quarry has not been there,
though Henri has. Conde's troopers have searched the house twice in
three days, and the landlord is quite indignant. But I believe the
rascal knows something about Peleton."

Armand was on the point of answering when I caught sight of a figure
which induced me to draw my companions back where they would not be
noticed. It was Pillot in a tremendous hurry. He had been running
fast: his hair and face were wet with perspiration; he was breathing
irregularly, and kept glancing over his shoulder as if expecting to
discover an enemy. Stopping outside the inn, he looked anxiously up
the street, was apparently reassur