"But my intentions, you know," said Gaston, attempting to force a laugh. "Ah, Madame Desroches is coming back. She thinks our interview too long. I am as much under tutelage as at the convent." Gaston imprinted a kiss on the hand Helene held out to him. As Madame Desroches approached, Helene made a formal curtsey, which Gaston returned by an equally formal bow. Gaston left for Paris. Owen awaited him with impatience, and this time could not reproach his master with being slow, for in three hours they were in Paris. CHAPTER XII. CAPTAIN LA JONQUIERE. There was, as the reader has learned, in the Rue des Bourdonnais, a hotel where one could lodge, eat, and drink. In his nocturnal interview with Dubois, Tapin had received the famous name of La Jonquiere, and had transmitted it to L'Eveille, who had passed it to all the chiefs of police, who had begun to search for the suspected officer in all the equivocal houses in Paris. The conspiracy of Cellamare, which we have related in a history of the Chevalier d'Harmental, had taught them that everywhere conspirators were to be found. It was, however, by luck or by cleverness, Maitre Tapin himself who, in the Rue des Bourdonnais and in the hotel Muids d'Amour, found La Jonquiere, who was then a nightmare to Dubois. The landlord took Tapin to be an old attorney's clerk, and replied to his questions politely, that "the Captain la Jonquiere was in the hotel, but was asleep." Tapin asked no more. La Jonquiere was asleep, therefore he was in bed, for it was only six in the morning; if he were in bed, then he must be stopping at the inn. Tapin went back to the Palais Royal, and found Dubois, who had just left the regent. A number of false La Jonquieres had already been discovered by his emissaries. One was a smuggler, called Captain la Jonciere, whom L'Eveille had found and arrested. A second was La Jonquille, sergeant in the French guards, and many others. "Well," said Dubois, when Tapin had made his report, "you have found the real Captain la Jonquiere, then?" "Yes, monseigneur." "Is he called La Jonquiere?" "Yes, monseigneur." "L-a, la; J-o-n, jon; q-u-i-e-r-e, quiere?" continued he, spelling the word. "La Jonquiere," repeated Tapin. "A captain." "Yes, monseigneur." "What is he doing?" "Waiting and drinking." "That must be he," said Dubois; "and does he pay?" He evidently attached great importance to the question. "Very well, monsieur." "A la bonne heure, Tapin. You have some sense." "Monseigneur," said Tapin, modestly, "you flatter me; it is quite clear, if he had not paid he could not have been a dangerous man." Dubois gave him ten louis as a reward, gave him some further orders, and set out at once to go to the Rue des Bourdonnais. Let us say a word regarding the interior of the hotel. It was partly hotel, partly public house; the dwelling rooms were on the first-floor, and the tavern rooms on the ground-floor.