"My brother, a relation of the abbess, had seen this young girl and asked her hand in marriage. The prince's consent to this union had been asked, and he made a pretense of granting it, when this young girl, seduced by her so-called protector, suddenly disappeared. For three months my brother hoped to find her, but all his searches were vain; he found no trace of her, and in despair he sought death in the battle of Ramillies." "And what was the name of this girl!" "No one ever knew, monseigneur; to speak her name was to dishonor it." "It was doubtless she," murmured the duke, "it was Helene's mother; and your brother was called--?" added he aloud. "Olivier de Chanlay, monseigneur." "Olivier de Chanlay!" repeated the duke, in a low voice. "I knew the name of De Chanlay was not strange to me." Then, aloud, "Continue, monsieur; I listen to you." "You do not know what a family hatred is in a province like ours. I had lavished upon my brother all the love which would have fallen to the share of my father and mother, and now I suddenly found myself alone in the world. I grew up in isolation of heart, and in the hope of revenge; I grew up among people who were constantly repeating, 'It was the Duc d'Orleans who killed your brother.' Then the duke became regent, the Breton league was therefore organized. I was one of the first to join it. You know the rest. You see that there is nothing in all this which has any interest for your excellency." "You mistake, monsieur; unfortunately, the regent has to reproach himself with many such faults." "You see, therefore," said Gaston, "that my destiny must be accomplished, and that I can ask nothing of this man." "You are right, monsieur; whatever is done must be done without you." At this moment the door opened and Maison-Rouge appeared. "Well, monsieur?" asked the duke. "The governor has an order from the lieutenant of police to admit Mademoiselle Helene de Chaverny; shall I bring her here?" "Monseigneur," said Gaston, looking at the duke with an air of entreaty. "Yes, monsieur," said he, "I understand--grief and love do not need witnesses--I will come back to fetch Mademoiselle Helene." "The permission is for half an hour," said Maison-Rouge. "Then at the end of that time I will return," said the duke, and bowing to Gaston, he went out. An instant after the door opened again, and Helene appeared, trembling, and questioning Maison-Rouge, but he retired without replying. Helene looked round and saw Gaston, and for a few minutes all their sorrows were forgotten in a close and passionate embrace. "And now--" cried Helene, her face bathed in tears. "Well! and now?" asked Gaston. "Alas! to see you here--in prison," murmured Helene, with an air of terror, "here, where I dare not speak freely, where we may be watched--overheard."