longer with
Vauquelas, and the latter knew nothing of his whereabouts.

This news brought Dolores back to the stern reality of her situation.
She feared that Coursegol had excited the anger of Vauquelas by his
threats, and that he had drawn down some misfortune upon himself.
Moreover, the disappearance of her protector cut off her pecuniary
resources; and as the prisoners could not obtain the slightest favor
without the aid of gold, she was deprived of the means to alleviate the
hardships of her lot. The jailer pitied her distress.

"Do not worry, citoyenne," he said to Dolores. "You shall have your
meals here, and you shall not be disturbed. By and by, you will be able
to compensate me for my services."

Grateful for this unexpected kindness, Dolores removed a small cross set
with diamonds which she wore about her neck, and, offering it to the
jailer, said:

"Accept this as security for the expense that I shall cause you. If I
die, you can keep it; if I live, I will redeem it."

The man refused at first; but the girl's entreaties conquered his
scruples, and he finally accepted it.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"I am called Aubry. You will find me ever ready to serve you,
citoyenne."

Such were the incidents that marked our heroine's arrival at the
Conciergerie. This first day in prison passed slowly. She did not leave
her cell, but toward evening Aubry brought up two dishes which were as
unpleasing to the taste as to the eye. As he placed them before her and
saw the movement of disgust which Dolores could not repress, Aubry was
almost ashamed of the meagre fare.

"Things here are not as they were in your chateau," he remarked, rather
tartly.

"No matter, my good Aubry, I am content;" responded Dolores, pleasantly.

She ate the food, however, for she had fasted since the evening before;
then, drawing the table to the wall pierced by the small, high window,
she mounted it to obtain a few breaths of fresh air. She opened the
sash; the breeze came in through the heavy bars, but Dolores could only
catch a glimpse of the gray sky already overcast by the mists of
evening.

An hour later, Dolores was sleeping calmly; and the next morning, as if
to render her first awakening in prison less gloomy, a bright sunbeam
peeped in to salute her.

When Aubry entered about ten o'clock with her breakfast, she was
walking about her cell.

"Citoyenne," he began; "I must tell you that as I was leaving the
prison, th