At length, the gentleman to whom Nemours had last spoken, and who had been conversing with another man at some distance, advanced towards De Montigni, saying, "Now, Monsieur le Baron, if you will follow me and Monsieur de la Haye, we will show you to your chamber.--Come hither," he continued, beckoning to De Montigni's servant who had been taken with him; "you can wait upon your master till he is ransomed, so you will see where he lodges;" and, leading the way with the officer to whom he had been speaking, he conducted the young nobleman into the castle. Following the walls which in those days were extensive, he approached a small detached building, which seemed to be used as a house of refreshment for the soldiery, or what we should, in the present day, call the canteen. The lower story was thronged with men drinking and talking; but, walking through the passage, they reached a narrow and ill-constructed stairs, which led to some rooms above. In one of these was found a bed, a table, and a chair, all of the homeliest description. The casements were not in the best state of repair, and no curtains were there to keep out the glare of day or the winds of night. The walls were in the rough primeval state in which the hands of the mason had left them, and everything bore an aspect of misery and discomfort, not very consoling to the eyes of the captive. This, he was informed, was to be his abode while he remained in the city of the Druids: and, well knowing that remonstrance was in vain, he seated himself in the solitary chair, while the officer of Nemours took the parole of his servant, and then, making a cold bow to the prisoner, retired. De Montigni remained in silence, with his head resting on his hand, for a moment or two, while his follower gazed on him with a disconsolate countenance; but, at length, the man ventured to interrupt his master's reverie by saying, "This is a strange place to put you in, Sir. Not very civil, _pardie_, though you be a prisoner." "The place matters little, my good friend," answered the young nobleman. "We slept in the Alps in worse abodes than this. It is the being a prisoner that makes the lodging bad--and at such a time too!" he added, with a bitter sigh, "when happiness was within my grasp; when the cause of the King was victorious; when another minute would have saved us both." "'Twas unlucky indeed, Sir," said the servant. "They say fortune changes every seven years; God forbid that ours should last as long, for we have made a sad beginning in France. But, at all events, I will try to render the place somewhat more comfortable for you, Sir. Money will do anything in Chartres, as well as elsewhere." "Would to Heaven it would get me out of it!" replied De Montigni. "He will never dare refuse to put me to ransom, surely?"