ng and strange advances conceal some snare? In
fact, the Bastille had done its ordinary work; the prison acted on the
prisoner, who became cold, suspicious, and uneasy.

"They take me for a provincial," he thought, "and they hope
that--prudent in my interrogatories--I shall be imprudent in my conduct;
they do not, they cannot, know my accomplices; and they hope that in
giving me the means of communicating with them, of writing to them, or
of inadvertently speaking of them, they will get something out of me.
Dubois and D'Argenson are at the bottom of this."

Then Gaston thought of his friends who were waiting for him without news
from him, who would not know what had become of him, or, worse still, on
some false news, might act and ruin themselves.

Then came the thought of his poor Helene, isolated, as he himself was,
whom he had not even presented to the Duc d'Olivares, her sole protector
for the future, and who might himself be arrested or have taken flight.
Then, what would become of Helene, without support, and pursued by that
unknown person, who had sought her even in the heart of Bretagne?

In a paroxysm of despair at this thought, Gaston threw himself on his
bed, cursing the doors and bars which imprisoned him, and striking the
stones with his hands.

At this moment there was a noise at the door. Gaston rose hastily, and
met D'Argenson with a law officer, and behind them an imposing escort of
soldiers. He understood that he was to be interrogated.

D'Argenson, with his great wig, large black eyes, and dark shaggy
eyebrows, made little impression on the chevalier; he knew that in
joining the conspiracy he sacrificed his happiness, and that in entering
the Bastille he had sacrificed his life. In this mood, it was difficult
to frighten him. D'Argenson asked a hundred questions which Gaston
refused to answer, replying only by complaints of being unjustly
arrested, and demanding proof. M. d'Argenson became angry, and Gaston
laughed in his face; then D'Argenson spoke of the Breton conspiracy;
Gaston assumed astonishment, and listened to the list of his accomplices
with the greatest sangfroid. When the magistrate had finished, he
thanked him for giving him intelligence of events which were quite new
to him. D'Argenson again lost patience, and gave his ordinary angry
cough. Then he passed from interrogatory to accusation.

"You wanted to kill the regent," said he, all at once, to the
chevalier.

"How do you know