When night came, and at this time of the year it was at four o'clock, Pignana told his companion of his plan. He purposed to scale the wall of the yard by means of the trellices of the vines. When once on the other side they would be in the garden of the Duke d'Harcourt, from which the young physician expected to go to the hotel to obtain protection from the Vicomte. The execution of this plan was easy for one as thin as d'Harcourt, but was impracticable to a person with an abdomen like Pignana. As soon as night had come, the latter said to Von Apsberg, "Go through the air, Doctor, if you can. I intend to adopt a more earthly route--through the door of the house, even if, much to Mlle. Crepineau's terror, I have the audacity to assume the guise of the suicide, and terrify her into opening the door for me. Besides, I am but slightly compromised, and will extricate myself. Adieu, then, Doctor," said he, "and good luck to you amid the clouds!" Von Apsberg clasped his hand, hurried from his retreat, ascended the wall, passed it, and a few minutes after was in the Duke's garden. Taking advantage of the darkness he went to the hotel, every window of which, to his surprise, he found closed. He went without being seen to the door of the reception rooms on the ground floor. The window had not been shut since the arrest of the Vicomte. The Doctor entered it. At the back of this room was a boudoir à la Louis XIV., of rare elegance, and appropriated to Marie d'Harcourt. Amid the darkness he heard a strange sound of sighs and sobs. The Doctor drew near, expecting that there was some pain for him to soothe. "Who is there?" said the Duke d'Harcourt. "It is I, my lord, Doctor Matheus." "You here, sir!" said the Duke; "they told me that, like my unfortunate son, you were arrested; and for the same offence." "What say you, sir?" said Von Apsberg, with deep distress; "René, dear René, arrested?" "Yes, sir," said the old Duke; "arrested and torn from his father's arms. Yet the blow did not overwhelm me. This, though, will take place ere long, and the executioner's axe will strike father and son at once." A footman appeared with lights, and the Doctor saw the whole family weeping. His head rested on Marie's shoulder, and the long white hair of the old man was mingled with the young girl's dark locks, and seemed like the silvery light of the moon resting on her brown hair. The Duke saw at a glance how the Doctor participated in all his sorrows, and how the fate of his son lacerated the heart of his visitor. He gave his hand to the Doctor. "I forgive you," said he, "the part you have had in my son's error, when I remember how you love him, and the care you have taken of Marie."