“He will save the hangman some trouble,” said Sartines, taking a pinch of snuff. “And it will be interesting to watch—yes—very interesting to watch.” Then suddenly his face changed in expression. “_Dame_! I forgot, all this put it out of my head. Rochefort has left Vincennes.” “M. de Rochefort left Vincennes!” cried Lavenne. “Since when, monsieur?” “He escaped last night.” “But—but,” said Lavenne. “He had agreed to stay. He quite understood his danger. This is strange news, monsieur.” “He must have got tired of prison,” said Sartines. “That devil of a man never could be easy anywhere, and not only that, he has let out Ferminard.” “But how did they escape, monsieur?” “How, by means of a rope which M. de Rochefort must have woven out of nothing in three days, by means of a file which he must have invented out of nothing for the purpose of cutting his window-bar, by half strangling the gaoler and leaving him tied up on the floor—I do not know, the thing was a miracle, but it was done.” “And you have heard nothing of him this morning?” “Nothing.” “Now,” said Lavenne, talking as if to himself, “I wonder what his motive was in doing that? I explained to him and he understood——” “He had no motive, he is a man who acts on impulse.” “Has he been visited in prison, monsieur?” “No. I was sending Captain Beauregard to see him this morning, but it was too late.” “Has he been treated well?” “Excellently. Captain Pierre Cousin, who came to me with the news this morning, vouched for his good treatment.” “Did he say anything to Captain Cousin that might give a clue to his motive?” “No, Captain Cousin never saw him.” “Never saw him?” “Well, it seems that he has been very busy with the half-yearly reports and accounts of Vincennes, and the governor in any case does not visit new prisoners as a matter of routine.” “Ah,” said Lavenne. “One can fancy M. de Rochefort imagining himself neglected and getting restive, but I cannot imagine where he could have got the means of escape.” “Nor can anyone else,” replied de Sartines. He looked up. The usher had knocked at the door and was entering the room, a letter in his hand. “Who brought it?” asked Sartines, taking the letter. “I don’t know, monsieur, a man left it and went away saying that there was no answer.” He withdrew and the Minister opened the letter. He cast his eyes over the contents and then handed it to Lavenne. “DEAR SARTINES,” ran this short and explicit communication, “I hope to have the pleasure of meeting you to-night at the Duc de Choiseul’s reception. I have left Vincennes, it was too dull. Meanwhile, do not be troubled in the least. I hope to make everything right with Choiseul. “Yours, “DE ROCHEFORT.” “Well, monsieur,” said Lavenne, returning the letter, which he had read with astonishment, but without the slightest alteration of expression, “we have now, at least, a clue to M. de Rochefort’s plans.” Sartines was white with anger.