ey did so, he seemed to gain new strength. With a calm smile, he
helped them to remove his coat and to unfasten his cuffs.

"It is to be the water, then?" asked the man.

"The water first," said D'Argenson.

They passed the cords through the rings, brought the tressels, filled
the vases--Gaston did not flinch.

D'Argenson reflected.

After about ten minutes' thought, which seemed an age to the chevalier--

"Let him go," said D'Argenson, with a grunt of discontent, "and take him
back to the Bastille."

CHAPTER XXVI.

HOW LIFE PASSED IN THE BASTILLE WHILE WAITING FOR DEATH.

Gaston was inclined to thank the lieutenant of police, but he refrained.
It might appear as though he had been afraid. He took his hat and coat,
and returned to the Bastille as he had come.

"They did not like to put a man of high birth to the torture," thought
he; "they will try me and condemn me to death."

But death seemed easy when divested of the preliminary agonies which the
lieutenant of police had so minutely described.

On re-entering his room, Gaston saw, almost with joy, all that had
seemed so horrible to him an hour before. The prison seemed gay, the
view charming, the saddest inscriptions on the walls were madrigals
compared to the menacing appearance of the room he had just quitted.

The major of the Bastille came to fetch him about an hour afterward,
accompanied by a turnkey.

"I understand," thought Gaston; "the governor's invitation is a pretext,
in such a case, to take from the prisoner the anguish of expectation. I
shall, doubtless, cross some dungeon, into which I shall fall and die.
God's will be done." And, with a firm step, he followed the major,
expecting every moment to be precipitated into some secret dungeon, and
murmuring Helene's name, that he might die with it on his lips.

But, no accident following this poetical and loving invocation, the
prisoner quietly arrived at the governor's door.

M. de Launay came to meet him.

"Will you give me your word of honor, chevalier," said he, "not to
attempt to escape while you are in my house? It is understood, of
course," he added, smiling, "that this parole is withdrawn as soon as
you are taken back to your own room, and it is only a precaution to
insure me a continuance of your society."

"I give you my word so far," said Gaston.

"'Tis well, monsieur, enter; you are expected."

And he led Gaston to a well-furnished room, where a numerous company was