etire," said Couedic.

The usher bowed and withdrew, followed by his escort, and the prison
door, heavy and clanging, closed once more upon the four gentlemen.

"Well!" said Montlouis, when they were again alone.

"Well, we are condemned," said Pontcalec. "I never said there would be
no sentence; I only said it would not be carried into execution."

"I am of Pontcalec's opinion," said Talhouet. "What they have done is
but to terrify the province and test its patience."

"Besides," said Du Couedic, "they will not execute us without the
regent's ratification of the sentence. Now, without an extraordinary
courier, it will take two days to reach Paris, one to examine into the
affair, and two to return, altogether five days. We have, then, five
days before us; and what may not happen in five days? The province will
rise on hearing of our doom--"

Montlouis shook his head.

"Besides, there is Gaston," said Pontcalec, "whom you always forget."

"I am much afraid that Gaston has been arrested," said Montlouis. "I
know Gaston, and were he at liberty, we should have heard of him ere
now."

"Prophet of evil," said Talhouet, "at least you will not deny that we
have some days before us."

"Who knows?" said Montlouis.

"And the waters?" said Pontcalec; "the waters? You always forget that I
can only perish by the waters."

"Well, then, let us be seated again," said Du Couedic, "and a last glass
to our healths."

"There is no more wine," said Montlouis; "'tis an evil omen."

"Bah! there is more in the cellar," said Pontcalec.

And he called the jailer.

The man, on entering, found the four friends at table; he looked at them
in astonishment.

"Well, what is there new, Master Christopher?" said Pontcalec.

Christopher came from Guer, and had a particular respect for Pontcalec,
whose uncle Crysogon had been his seigneur.

"Nothing but what you know," he replied.

"Then go and fetch some wine."

"They wish to deaden their feelings," said the jailer to himself; "poor
gentlemen."

Montlouis alone heard Christopher's remark, and he smiled sadly.

An instant afterward they heard steps rapidly approaching their room.

The door opened, and Christopher reappeared without any bottle in his
hand.

"Well," said Pontcalec, "where is the wine?"

"Good news," cried Christopher, without answering Pontcalec's inquiry,
"good news, gentlemen."

"What?" said Montlouis, starting. "Is the regent--dead?"

"And Bretagne in