t no matter. Since you were kind enough to undertake
my education, show me your dungeon."

"Very well, then. Come in quickly. I see a crowd of persons who look as
if they want to speak to me."

In fact, little by little, a sort of rumor seemed to spread throughout
the town. People emerged from the houses, forming groups in the streets,
and they all watched Roland with curiosity. He rang the bell of the
gate, situated then where it is now, but opening into the prison yard. A
jailer opened it for them.

"Ah, ah! so you are still here, Father Courtois?" asked the young man.
Then, turning to Sir John, he added: "A fine name for a jailer, isn't
it, my lord?"

The jailer looked at the young man in amazement.

"How is it," he asked through the grating, "that you know my name, when
I don't know yours?"

"Good! I not only know your name, but also your opinions. You are an old
royalist, Pere Courtois."

"Monsieur," said the jailer, terrified, "don't make bad jokes if you
please, and say what you want."

"Well, my good Father Courtois, I would like to visit the cell where
they put my mother and sister, Madame and Mademoiselle Montrevel."

"Ah!" exclaimed the gatekeeper, "so it's you, M. Louis? You may well say
that I know you. What a fine, handsome young man you've grown to be!"

"Do you think so, Father Courtois? Well, I can return the compliment.
Your daughter Charlotte is, on my word, a beautiful girl. Charlotte is
my sister's maid, Sir John."

"And she is very happy over it. She is better off there than here, M.
Roland. Is it true that you are General Bonaparte's aide-de-camp?"

"Alas! I have that honor, Courtois. You would prefer me to be Comte
d'Artois's aide-de-camp, or that of M. le Duc of Angouleme?"

"Oh, do be quiet, M. Louis!" Then putting his lips to the young man's
ear, "Tell me, is it true?"

"What, Father Courtois?"

"That General Bonaparte passed through Lyons yesterday?"

"There must be some truth in the rumor, for this is the second time
that I have heard it. Ah! I understand now. These good people who were
watching me so curiously apparently wanted to question me. They were
like you, Father Courtois: they want to know what to make of General
Bonaparte's arrival."

"Do you know what they say, M. Louis?"

"Still another rumor, Father Courtois?"

"I should think so, but they only whisper it."

"What is it?"

"They say that he has come to demand the throne of his Majesty Louis
XVIII. fro