tue's path, could not endure the thought of her
losing her reputation and becoming an object for scandal to point her
finger at; so that Angelique, who could not well seem less careful of
her good name than he, was obliged to turn his song of woe into a duet,
and consent to certain measures being taken.

One evening, therefore, shortly before Maitre Quennebert's marriage, the
fair lady set out, ostensibly on a journey which was to last a fortnight
or three weeks. In reality she only made a circle in a post-chaise
round Paris, which she re-entered at one of the barriers, where the
duke awaited her with a sedan-chair. In this she was carried to the very
house to which de Jars had brought his pretended nephew after the duel.
Angelique, who had to pay dearly for her errors, remained there only
twenty-four hours, and then left in her coffin, which was hidden in a
cellar under the palace of the Prince de Conde, the body being covered
with quicklime. Two days after this dreadful death, Commander de Jars
presented himself at the fatal house, and engaged a room in which he
installed the chevalier.

This house, which we are about to ask the reader to enter with us, stood
at the corner of the rue de la Tixeranderie and the rue Deux-Portes.
There was nothing in the exterior of it to distinguish it from any
other, unless perhaps two brass plates, one of which bore the words
MARIE LEROUX-CONSTANTIN, WIDOW, CERTIFIED MIDWIFE, and the other CLAUDE
PERREGAUD, SURGEON. These plates were affixed to the blank wall in the
rue de la Tixeranderie, the windows of the rooms on that side looking
into the courtyard. The house door, which opened directly on the first
steps of a narrow winding stair, was on the other side, just beyond the
low arcade under whose vaulted roof access was gained to that end of the
rue des Deux-Portes. This house, though dirty, mean, and out of repair,
received many wealthy visitors, whose brilliant equipages waited for
them in the neighbouring streets. Often in the night great ladies
crossed its threshold under assumed names and remained there for several
days, during which La Constantin and Claude Perregaud, by an infamous
use of their professional knowledge, restored their clients to an
outward appearance of honour, and enabled them to maintain their
reputation for virtue. The first and second floors contained a dozen
rooms in which these abominable mysteries were practised. The large
apartment, which served as wait