ied by some servants, and by these the
suffering man was borne into the house.

"All is ready, my dear count," said the commandant. "You will feel
much better after you have some rest of the proper kind."

"But have you arrested him?" asked Cazeneau, earnestly.

"I have; he is safe now in prison."

"Very good. And now, Monsieur Le Commandant, if you will have the
kindness to send me to my room--"

"Monsieur Le Commandant, you reign here now," said the other. "My
authority is over since you have come, and you have only to give your
orders."

"At any rate, _mon ami_, you must remain in power till I get some
rest and sleep," said Cazeneau.

Rest, food, and, above all, a good night's sleep, had a very
favorable effect upon Cazeneau, and on the following morning, when
the commandant waited on him, he congratulated him on the improvement
in his appearance. Cazeneau acknowledged that he felt better, and
made very pointed inquiries about Mimi, which led to the recital of
the circumstances of Claude's arrest in Mimi's presence. Whatever
impression this may have made upon the hearer, he did not show it,
but preserved an unchanged demeanor.

A conversation of a general nature now followed, turning chiefly upon
affairs in France.

"You had a long voyage," remarked the commandant.

"Yes; and an unpleasant one. We left in March, but it seems longer
than that; for it was in February that I left Versailles, only a
little while after the death of his eminence."

"I fancy there will be a great change now in the policy of the
government."

"O, of course. The peace policy is over. War with England must be.
The king professes now to do like his predecessor, and govern without
a minister; but we all know what that means. To do without a minister
is one thing for Louis Quatorze, but another thing altogether for
Louis Quinze. The Duchesse de Chateauroux will be minister--for the
present. Then we have D'Aguesseau, D'Argenson, and Maurepas. O,
there'll be war at once. I dare say it has already been declared. At
any rate, it's best to act on that principle."

"Well, as to that, monsieur, we generally do act on that principle
out here. But Fleury was a wonderful old man."

"Yes; but he died too soon."

"Too soon! What, at the age of ninety?"

"O, well, I meant too soon for me. Had he died ten years ago, or had
he lived two years longer, I should not have come out here."

"I did not know that it was a matter of regret to mons