t length, I suppressed my feelings sufficiently to say in a tone of
moderation, which was but the refinement of rage: 'Put an end, sir, to
this insolent mockery! What is your object? What do you purpose doing
with us?'

"'M. Chevalier,' he answered, 'my object is to see you quietly lodged
in the prison of Le Chatelet. Tomorrow will bring daylight with it,
and we shall then be able to take a clearer view of matters; and I hope
you will at last do me the favour to let me know where my son is.'

"It did not require much consideration to feel convinced that our
incarceration in Le Chatelet would be a serious calamity. I foresaw
all the dangers that would ensue. In spite of my pride, I plainly saw
the necessity of bending before my fate, and conciliating my most
implacable enemy by submission. I begged of him, in the quietest
manner, to listen to me. 'I wish to do myself but common justice,
sir,' said I to him; 'I admit that my youth has led me into egregious
follies; and that you have had fair reason to complain: but if you have
ever felt the resistless power of love, if you can enter into the
sufferings of an unhappy young man, from whom all that he most loved
was ravished, you may think me perhaps not so culpable in seeking the
gratification of an innocent revenge; or at least, you may consider me
sufficiently punished, by the exposure and degradation I have just now
endured. Neither pains nor imprisonment will be requisite to make me
tell you where your son now is. He is in perfect safety. It was never
my intention to injure him, nor to give you just cause for offence. I
am ready to let you know the place where he is safely passing the
night, if, in return, you will set us at liberty.'

"The old tiger, far from being softened by my prayer, turned his back
upon me and laughed. A few words, escaped him, which showed that he
perfectly well knew our whole plan from the commencement. As for his
son, the brute said that he would easily find him, since I had not
assassinated him. 'Conduct them to the Petit-Chatelet,' said he to the
archers; 'and take especial care that the chevalier does not escape
you: he is a scamp that once before escaped from St. Lazare.'

"He went out, and left me in a condition that you may picture to
yourself. 'O Heavens!' cried I to myself, 'I receive with humble
submission all your visitations; but that a wretched scoundrel should
thus have the power to tyrannise over me! this it is t