zarin had nothing
to do with the plot. But there is one point which still requires
explanation. If you were not there, how could the mob have followed
you to the house?"

"They did not follow me, but were led by two of my enemies."

"Who were they?"

"One was Baron Maubranne dressed as a charcoal-burner, and him I
killed."

"Who was the other?"

"M. Peleton, disguised as a mason. He kept out of my way, the coward!"

"_Corbleu!_" exclaimed Conde, laughing, "that showed his discretion.
Now, M. de Lalande, I am going to think over this extraordinary story.
Meanwhile you must return to the Bastille. It is not exactly a
pleasant residence, but it is above all things safe. True, the
Governor will keep out your friends, but I will take care that he does
not admit your enemies. By the way, who is this M. Beauchamp of whom
you have spoken?"

"An officer in the household of the Duke of Orleans."

"Ah, well, I shall be visiting the Luxembourg in a day or two, and I
may meet him."

Summoning the officer, who had remained on guard just inside the door,
he directed that I should be driven back to the Bastille without delay;
and thus my night adventure ended.

It was early morning when we reached the famous prison, but my gaoler
received me with a cheerful smile.

"I hope monsieur's journey has proved a pleasant one," said he, for, of
course, he had watched the departure of the carriage.

"It has not been amiss," I answered, "and it may help to prove my
innocence. At any rate, it was more agreeable than a visit to the
torture chamber," and I began to undress.

The interview with Conde had raised my spirits, and I felt more
cheerful than at any time since my arrest. Although doubtful at first,
he was evidently impressed by my story, and for his own sake would
endeavour to unravel the mystery. I had, however, to exercise
considerable patience. Another week passed wearily enough, and during
the whole of that time no whisper reached me from the outside world. I
was left entirely to my imagination, and even Gaston of Orleans could
not have changed his mind as many times as I did during that period.

At one moment I felt sure of freedom; the next I listened to the roar
of the hungry mob assembled to witness my execution. I turned hot and
cold at every sound; now fancying the gaoler was coming to set me at
liberty, again that he was bringing news of my condemnation.

One morning after breakfast I was sitting d