It was strange what an unfamiliar aspect the streets of the city at first bore. I stood for a time perplexed by the change from the gloomy Bastille, bewildered by the noise of the traffic, and scarcely knowing which direction to take. Wandering on aimlessly, I at length found myself on the Quai Henry IV., and, keeping steadily along past the Hotel de Ville, reached the head of the Pont Neuf. Turning off here, I was soon in the familiar net-work of streets near the Palais Royal, and presently entered the Rue des Catonnes. My landlord, who would hardly have raised an eyebrow in the midst of an earthquake, made no comment on my long absence, but, merely observing that monsieur would perhaps like something to eat, disappeared. Going to my room, I removed my sword, which had been returned to me on leaving the Bastille, and sat down. In a short time my worthy host brought some food, for which I was really grateful, and I asked cheerfully if any one had called at the house to inquire for me. "A soldier of the Queen's Guards who comes every evening, monsieur. He is a foreigner, I think, he speaks French so badly." "Ah, an Englishman, a fine fellow, and my very good friend." "There is also a young cavalier who comes from the Luxembourg to inquire if you have returned. He it was who informed me that monsieur had gone into the country." "And they come every evening?" "Without fail, monsieur." "Then be sure to send them up the instant they arrive." About six o'clock, observing Raoul approach the house, I withdrew quickly from the window, so that he might be taken the more completely by surprise. Suddenly the footsteps ceased, and I heard my friend putting his question to the landlord. The answer was not distinguishable, but it produced a remarkable effect. There was a rush and a clatter on the stairs, the door of my room was opened quickly, and Raoul threw himself into my arms. "Albert," he cried, "I began to fear we should never see you again. You are too venturesome, my dear fellow. Listen! What is that? Ah! here is your English friend, and mine, too, now. He is a splendid fellow." "Back again, my friend!" cried John Humphreys, as he entered the room. "You have had a long holiday this time." "Longer than was agreeable," I answered, laughing, "but sit down and tell me the news; I am dying with curiosity." "So are we," observed Raoul; "we want to know all that has happened to you." "Didn't the story get abroad?" "Only a little. We heard you were suspected of leading the attack on Conde. In fact, there were people who swore they saw you fire, though, naturally, I knew that was rubbish." "Did you guess the truth?" "Yes, and told Humphreys here. But I have not cried it from the housetops." "You were wise; it is an affair that requires delicate handling," and I repeated the story of my adventures, from my disappearance to the moment of my being liberated from the Bastille.