ed
around him, he carefully perused the papers and the report of his own
answers to the interrogatory--then, finding all correct, he signed.

"Monsieur," said he, "here are the documents. Shall I have the pleasure
of seeing you again?"

"I do not think so," said D'Argenson, with that brutality which was the
terror of those who were subjected to him.

"Then to our meeting in another world, monsieur."

The major led Gaston to his own room.

CHAPTER XXX.

THE FAMILY FEUD.

When Gaston returned to his room, he was obliged to answer the questions
of Dumesnil and Pompadour, who were waiting to hear news from him; but,
in compliance with his promise made to D'Argenson, he did not mention
his sentence, but simply announced a severer interrogatory than
before--but as he wished to write some letters, he asked Dumesnil for a
light. Dumesnil sent him a candle--things were progressing, it may be
remarked; Maison-Rouge could refuse nothing to Mademoiselle de Launay,
and she shared all with Dumesnil, who, in his turn, again shared with
his neighbors, Gaston and Richelieu.

Gaston doubted whether, in spite of D'Argenson's promise, he would be
allowed to see Helene, but he knew that at least he should see a priest
before he died; there could be no doubt that the priest would forward
two letters for him.

As he began to write, Mademoiselle de Launay made a signal that she had
something to send him; it was a letter. Gaston read:

"Our friend--for you are our friend, and now we have no secrets from
you--tell Dumesnil of the famous hope I conceived after the word that
Herment said to me."

Gaston's heart beat. Might not he also find in this letter some ground
for hope? Had they not said that his fate could not be separated from
the others? It is true that those who had said so did not know of his
conspiracy. He read on:

"An hour ago the doctor came, accompanied by Maison-Rouge; from the
latter's manner I drew the most favorable augury; however, when I asked
to speak in private, or, at least, to whisper to the doctor, he made
some difficulties, which I removed with a smile. 'At least,' said he,
'no one must know that I am out of hearing. I should lose my place if it
were known how weak I am.' This tone of love and interest combined
seemed to me so grotesque that I laughingly promised him what he asked;
you see how I keep my promise. He went to a distance, and Herment
approached. Then commenced a dialogue, wherein the