solution, he
darted down the staircase, jumped into the carriage, and cried--

"To Monceaux!"

Scarcely had he quitted the room, when a secret door in the woodwork
opened, and the duke entered. He went to Helene's door, who uttered a
cry of delight at seeing him.

"Well," said the regent sadly, "are you content, Helene?"

"Oh! it is you, monseigneur?"

"You see, my child, that my predictions are fulfilled--believe me when I
say, 'Hope.'"

"Ah! monseigneur, are you then an angel come down to earth to stand to
me in the place of the father whom I have lost?"

"Alas," said the regent, smiling. "I am not an angel, my dear Helene;
but such as I am, I will indeed be to you a father, and a tender one."

Saying this, the regent took Helene's hand, and was about to kiss it
respectfully, but she raised her head and presented her forehead to him.

"I see that you love him truly," said he.

"Monseigneur, I bless you."

"May your blessing bring me happiness," said the regent, then, going
down to his carriage--

"To the Palais Royal," said he, "but remember you have only a quarter of
an hour to drive to Monceaux."

The horses flew along the road.

As the carriage entered under the peristyle, a courier on horseback was
setting out.

Dubois, having seen him start, closed the window and went back to his
apartments.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

MONCEAUX.

Meanwhile Gaston went toward Monceaux.

He had found the duke's domino and mask in the carriage. The mask was of
black velvet--the domino of violet satin. He put them both on, and
suddenly remembered that he was without arms.

He thought, however, he should easily procure some weapon at Monceaux.
As he approached, he found it was not a weapon that he needed, but
courage. There passed in his mind a terrible contest. Pride and humanity
struggled against each other, and, from time to time, he represented to
himself his friends in prison, condemned to a cruel and infamous death.

As the carriage entered the courtyard of Monceaux, he murmured,
"Already!"

However, the carriage stopped, the door was opened, he must alight. The
prince's private carriage and coachman had been recognized, and all the
servants overwhelmed him with attentions.

Gaston did not remark it--a kind of mist passed before his eyes--he
presented his card.

It was the custom then for both men and women to be masked: but it was
more frequently the women than the men who went to these reunions