martyr, was frequently punished for swearing, roaring so that people outside could hear him, and "playing the devil," to use the words of the officials; yet he was allowed tobacco, seeds for the birds he was permitted to keep, new clothes when he asked for them, fur gloves to keep his hands warm, and almost whatever food he desired. Allègre, who escaped from the Bastille with him and was retaken, was also a troublesome man; he broke all the windows, china, and pottery in his room daily, and tore up his mattresses and shirts, "which cost the King twenty francs each," and his pocket-handkerchiefs. He died mad at last at Charenton, did not know Latude, who went to see him, and told everyone that he was God. The instrument of torture found in the Bastille on its fall turned out, when regarded by intelligent people, to be a small printing press left behind by one François Lenormand, who had been permitted to have it in his room for occupation; also a billiard table was discovered which was provided, the year before the Bastille surrendered, for the amusement of the "prisoners"! The "awful cells" which have furnished so much matter for powerful writing, were "the ice houses" in which wine, meat, and fish were stored. In truth, the "King's furnished apartments" seem to have been far from unpleasant abode to many, as the Abbé de Mehégan acknowledged when his mother implored the King to keep him there as long as possible, because he was so dissolute and extravagant and such a terror to all the girls in his parish. Of course, in the days of Louis XIV and Louis XV some prisoners were detained for long periods, and one there was who was detained the same length of time--forty-four years--as I have accorded to De Chevagny. Falmy's case was also possible in Louis XV's reign. But in Louis XVI's first year the Bastille was cleared of all but Tavernier and some others whose trial was close at hand, and even the revolutionists acknowledged that no "court" victim had been incarcerated during that unhappy King's reign. The last man to enter the Bastille was one Reveillon, a furniture dealer, and he did so at his own request, and with a demand for the rights of "sanctuary," as his fellow-workmen were destroying his house in the Faubourg St. Antoine because he had used defamatory language against _them!_ and he was afraid for his life. Terrible, therefore, as the Bastille was, as a place in which one might be detained for an indefinite period, it was not what it has hitherto been represented; yet, as I have said, it formed a sufficiently gloomy abode in which to secrete such characters as Bertie Elphinston and Fordingbridge when such secretion was rendered necessary in the interests of my narrative.