The prisoner's conversation with his keeper had been decisive; the latter was too well acquainted with the character of the man with whom he had to deal to attempt to revert to a subject which had been so distinctly disposed of on the first occasion. At the period when our history takes place, France was not as now intersected by magnificent roads, and the shortest journey demanded an enormous expenditure of time; the coaches, heavy vehicles badly built and worse horsed, had great difficulty in resisting the numerous joltings and the ruts in which they were for the greater portion of the time buried up to the axletree, and hence, in spite of the speed employed, seventeen days elapsed ere the prisoner and his escort arrived at Toulon. This town was even at that early period one of the principal military ports of France, and the Count felt an indescribable pang at heart when he entered it. It was in this town that his naval career had begun, here for the first time he had set foot aboard a vessel with the rank of midshipman, and had undergone the preparatory trials of that rude naval profession, in which, in spite of his youth, he soon attained a great reputation and almost celebrity. The coach stopped in the Haymarket, in front of the "Cross of Malta," probably the oldest inn in France, for it is still in existence, although it has undergone many indispensable changes both internally and externally. So soon as he had installed his prisoner comfortably in the Inn, François Bouillot went out. If he placed a sentry before the Count's door, it was rather in obedience to his duty, than through any fear of escape, for he had not even taken the trouble to lock the door, so convinced was he beforehand that unfortunately his prisoner would not attempt to pass out of it. He remained away for about two hours. "You have been absent a long time," the Count remarked on his return. "I had some important business to settle," he replied. The Count, without adding a word, resumed his walk up and down the room which Bouillot's return had interrupted. There was a momentary silence, Bouillot was evidently embarrassed, he went about the room, pretending to arrange sundry articles of furniture, and disarranging everything; at last seeing that the Count obstinately remained silent and would not perceive that he was in the room, he placed himself in front of him so as to bar his passage, and looked at him intently as he whispered with a stress on the words. "You do not ask where I have been." "What is the use?" the Count replied carelessly; "About your own business, of course." "No, my lord, about yours." "Ah!" he said. "Yes, the _Seamew_ awaits you." The Count smiled and slightly shrugged his shoulders.