able to tell you to-morrow evening; at present, all I
know is that he is at some distance, and that I will answer for it he
will not return."

The regent became deeply thoughtful.

"Really, monseigneur, your naivete causes me perpetual astonishment; you
must be strangely ignorant of the human heart if you suppose that a man
condemned to death would remain in prison when he had a chance of
escape."

"Oh! Monsieur de Chanlay!" cried the regent.

"Eh, mon Dieu! this chevalier has acted as the commonest workman would
have done, and quite right too."

"Dubois! and my daughter?"

"Well, your daughter, monseigneur?"

"It will kill her," said the regent.

"Oh no, monseigneur, not at all; when she finds out what he is, she will
be consoled, and you can marry her to some small German or Italian
prince--to the Duke of Modena, for instance, whom Mademoiselle de Valois
will not have."

"Dubois! and I meant to pardon him."

"He has done it for himself, monseigneur, thinking it safer, and ma foi!
I should have done the same."

"Oh you; you are not noble, you had not taken an oath."

"You mistake, monseigneur; I had taken an oath, to prevent your highness
from committing a folly, and I have succeeded."

"Well, well, let us speak of it no more, not a word of this before
Helene--I will undertake to tell her."

"And I, to get back your son-in-law."

"No, no, he has escaped, let him profit by it."

As the regent spoke these words a noise was heard in the neighboring
room, and a servant entering, hurriedly announced--

"Monsieur Gaston de Chanlay."

Dubois turned pale as death, and his face assumed an expression of
threatening anger. The regent rose in a transport of joy, which brought
a bright color into his face--there was as much pleasure in this face,
rendered sublime by confidence, as there was compressed fury in
Dubois's sharp and malignant countenance.

[Illustration: THE REGENT.--Page 544.]

"Let him enter," said the regent.

"At least, give me time to go," said Dubois.

"Ah! yes, he would recognize you."

Dubois retired with a growling noise, like a hyena disturbed in its
feast, or in its lair; he entered the next room. There he sat down by a
table on which was every material for writing, and this seemed to
suggest some new and terrible idea, for his face suddenly lighted up.

He rang.

"Send for the portfolio which is in my carriage," said he to the servant
who appeared.

This order being execut