e! Fled! Decamped!
I had words with him this morning, you understand."

"About your niece?"

M. de Perrot's face took a delicate shade of red, and he nodded; he
could not speak. He seemed for an instant in danger of some kind of
fit. Then he found his voice again. "The fool prated of love! Of
love!" he said with such a look--like that of a dying fowl--that I
could have laughed aloud. "And when I bade him remember his duty he
threatened me. He, that unnatural boy, threatened to betray me, to
ruin me, to go to Madame de Beaufort and tell her all--all, you
understand. And I doing so much, and making such sacrifices for him!"

"Yes," I said, "I see that. And what did you do?"

"I broke my cane on his back," M. de Perrot answered with unction, "and
locked him in his room. But what is the use? The boy has no natural
feelings!"

"He got out through the window?"

Perrot nodded; and being at leisure, now that he had explained his
woes, to feel their full depth, shed actual tears of rage and terror;
now moaning that Madame would never forgive him, and that if he escaped
the Bastille he would lose all his employments and be the
laughing-stock of the Court; and now striving to show that his peril
was mine, and that it was to my interest to help him.

I allowed him to go on in this strain for some time, and then, having
sufficiently diverted myself with his forebodings, I bade him in an
altered voice to take courage. "For I think I know," I said, "where
your son is."

"At Madame's?" he groaned.

"No; here," I said.

"MON DIEU! Where?" he cried. And he sprang up, startled out of his
lamentations.

"Here; in my lodging," I answered.

"My son is here?" he said.

"In the next room," I replied, smiling indulgently at his astonishment,
which was only less amusing than his terror. "I have but to touch this
bell, and Maignan will bring him to you."

Full of wonder and admiration, he implored me to ring and have him
brought immediately; since until he had set eyes on him he could not
feel safe. Accordingly I rang my hand-bell, and Maignan opened the
door. "The clockmaker," I said nodding.

He looked at me stupidly. "The clock-maker, your excellency?"

"Yes; bring him in," I said.

"But--he has gone!" he exclaimed.

"Gone?" I cried, scarcely able to believe my ears. "Gone, sirrah! and
I told you to detain him!"

"Until he had mended the clock, my lord," Maignan stammered, quite out
of counte