discretion."

"Do as you please."

"That is my usual custom."

"Rascal that you are!"

"But I think monseigneur reaps the benefit of the rascality."

"Oh, I know you are always right."

"But the others?"

"What others?"

"The Bretons, Pontcalec, Du Couedic, Talhouet, and Montlouis?"

"Oh, the unfortunates; you know their names."

"And how do you think I have passed my time at the hotel Muids d'Amour?"

"They will know of their accomplice's arrest."

"How?"

"Having no letter from Paris, they will fear that something is wrong."

"Bah! Is not Captain la Jonquiere there to reassure them?"

"True; but they must know the writing?"

"Not bad, monseigneur, you are improving; but you take useless
precautions, as Racine says. At this moment, probably, they are
arrested."

"And who dispatched the order?"

"I. Pardieu! I am not your minister for nothing. Besides, you signed
it."

"I! Are you mad?"

"Assuredly, these men are not less guilty than the chevalier; and in
authorizing me to arrest one, you authorized me to arrest all."

"And when did the bearer of this order leave?"

Dubois took out his watch.

"Just three hours ago. Thus, it was a poetical license when I said they
were all arrested; they will not be till to-morrow morning."

"Bretagne will be aroused, Dubois."

"Bah! I have taken measures."

"The Breton tribunals will not condemn their compatriots."

"That case is foreseen."

"And, if they should be condemned, none will be found to execute them.
It will be a second edition of the affair at Chalais. Remember, it was
at Nantes that _that_ took place, Dubois. I tell you, Bretons are
unaccommodating."

"This is a point to settle with the commissioners, of whom this is a
list. I will send three or four executioners from Paris--men accustomed
to noble deeds--who have preserved the traditions of the Cardinal de
Richelieu."

"Good God!" cried the regent; "bloodshed under my reign--I do not like
it. As to Count Horn, he was a thief, and Duchaffour a wretch; but I am
tender, Dubois."

"No, monseigneur, you are not tender; you are uncertain and weak; I told
you so when you were my scholar--I tell you so again, now that you are
my master. When you were christened, your godmothers, the fairies, gave
you every gift of nature--strength, beauty, courage, and mind: only
one--whom they did not invite because she was old, and they probably
foresaw your aversion to old women--arrived the last, an