I recognize my Gaston there. Well--I am ready, take me where you
will--I am yours--I am--"

"Helene," said Gaston, "you are not the bride of an ordinary man; if I
had been only like all other men you would not have loved me."

"Oh, no!"

"Well, Helene, to superior souls superior duties are allotted, and
consequently greater trials; before I can be yours I have to accomplish
the mission on which I came to Paris; we have both a fatal destiny to
fulfill. Our life or death hangs on a single event which must be
accomplished to-night."

"What do you mean?" cried the young girl.

"Listen, Helene," replied Gaston, "if in four hours, that is to say, by
daybreak, you have no news of me, do not expect me, believe that all
that has passed between us is but a dream--and, if you can obtain
permission to do so, come again and see me in the Bastille."

Helene trembled, Gaston took her back to her prie-Dieu, where she knelt.

Then, kissing her on the forehead as a brother might have done--"Pray
on, Helene;" said he, "for in praying for me you pray also for Bretagne
and for France." Then he rushed out of the room.

"Alas! alas!" murmured Helene, "save _him_, my God! and what care I for
the rest of the world."

Gaston was met by a servant who gave him a note, telling him the duke
was gone.

The note was as follows:

"There is a bal masque to-night at Monceaux; the regent
will be there. He generally retires toward one o'clock
in the morning into a favorite conservatory, which is
situated at the end of the gilded gallery. No one
enters there ordinarily but himself, because this habit
of his is known and respected. The regent will be
dressed in a black velvet domino, on the left arm of
which is embroidered a golden bee. He hides this sign
in a fold when he wishes to remain incognito. The card
I inclose is an ambassador's ticket. With this you
will be admitted, not only to the ball, but to this
conservatory, where you will appear to seek a private
interview. Use it for your encounter with the regent.
My carriage is below, in which you will find my own
domino. The coachman is at your orders."

On reading this note, which, as it were, brought him face to face with
the man he meant to assassinate, a cold perspiration passed over
Gaston's forehead, and he was obliged for a moment to lean against a
chair for support; but suddenly, as if taking a violent re