errupted Cambray, "that I must
refuse so handsome an opportunity to enrich myself. Although I am a
banker, I am no swindler."

"Very good! Then you require no money. You are _not_ a banker, M.
Cambray; that is merely a fable. What is your ambition? Should you
prefer to be a governor? Name any office; let it be what it may, you
shall receive the appointment to-morrow."

"Thank you again, monsieur. I must repeat what I said before: I know
nothing about the future residence of the fugitive gentleman."

"And if I tell you, M. Cambray, that your refusal may cost you your
head?"

"I should reply," returned Cambray, smiling calmly, as he took up the
piece of bread lying on the table, "that it is a matter of perfect
indifference to me if this daily portion of bread is enjoyed by some one
else to-morrow. That which I do not know I cannot tell you."

"Very well, then," in a harsh tone rejoined De Fervlans. "I will tell
you that Cambray the banker may say what is not true; but the nobleman
cannot lie. _Marquis d'Avoncourt_, do you know to what country your
friend has flown?"

At this question the old gentleman rose from his chair, drew himself up
proudly, and gazing defiantly into the eyes of his questioner, replied:

"I do."

Instantly De Fervlans's manner changed. He became the embodiment of
courtesy. He bowed with extreme politeness, then, slipping his arm
familiarly through that of the prisoner, whispered insinuatingly:

"And what can we do to win this information from you?"

The gray-haired man released himself from De Fervlans's arm, and
answered with quiet irony:

"I will tell you what you can do: have my head cut off, and send it to
M. Bichet, the celebrated professor of anatomy; perhaps he may be able
to discover the information in my skull--if it is there! And now I beg
you to leave me; I wish to be alone."

De Fervlans took up his hat, but turned at the door to say, in a meaning
tone:

"Marquis d'Avoncourt, we shall forget that you are a prisoner so long as
it shall please you to remain obstinate. As for the fugitives, Cythera's
Brigade will capture them, sooner or later. _Au revoir_!"

That same night the old nobleman was removed to the prison at Ham.

CHAPTER IV

While the ensnared conspirators against the state were receiving
sentence in one district of Paris, in another district the inhabitants
were entertaining themselves.

Paris does not mourn very long. Paris is like the earth: one h