ly; "thank you, I know where I shall go."

"Well, good luck to you," said Dubois, getting into his carriage.

"The same to you," said Gaston.

They grasped each other's hands, and then each went his own way.

CHAPTER XXXII.

SHOWING THAT WE MUST NOT ALWAYS JUDGE OTHERS BY OURSELVES, ABOVE ALL IF
WE ARE CALLED DUBOIS.

The regent, as usual, passed the evening with Helene. He had not missed
for four or five days, and the hours he passed with her were his happy
hours, but this time he found her very much shaken by her visit to her
lover in the Bastille.

"Come," said the regent, "take courage, Helene; to-morrow you shall be
his wife."

"To-morrow is distant," replied she.

"Helene, believe in my word, which has never failed you. I tell you that
to-morrow shall dawn happily for you and for him."

Helene sighed deeply.

A servant entered and spoke to the regent.

"What is it?" asked Helene, who was alarmed at the slightest thing.

"Nothing, my child," said the duke; "it is only my secretary, who wishes
to see me on some pressing business."

"Shall I leave you?"

"Yes; do me that favor for an instant."

Helene withdrew into her room.

At the same time the door opened and Dubois entered, out of breath.

"Where do you come from in such a state?"

"Parbleu! from the Bastille."

"And our prisoner?"

"Well."

"Is everything arranged for the marriage."

"Yes, everything but the hour, which you did not name."

"Let us say eight in the morning."

"At eight in the morning," said Dubois, calculating.

"Yes, what are you calculating?"

"I am thinking where he will be."

"Who?"

"The prisoner."

"What! the prisoner!"

"Yes; at eight o'clock he will be forty leagues from Paris!"

"From Paris!"

"Yes; if he continues to go at the pace at which I saw him set out."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, monseigneur, that there will be one thing only wanting at the
marriage; the husband."

"Gaston?"

"Has escaped from the Bastille half-an-hour ago."

"You lie, abbe; people do not escape from the Bastille."

"I beg your pardon, monseigneur; people escape from any place when they
are condemned to death."

"He escaped, knowing that to-morrow he was to wed her whom he loved?"

"Listen, monseigneur, life is a charming thing, and we all cling to it;
then your son-in-law has a charming head which he wishes to keep on his
shoulders--what more natural?"

"And where is he?"

"Perhaps I may be