The regent sat down and wrote to Madame Desroches, sending a carriage with an order to bring Helene, after reading her the letter without showing it to her. The letter was as follows: "MY DAUGHTER--On reflection, I wish to have you near me. Therefore follow Madame Desroches without loss of time. On your arrival at Paris, you shall hear from me. Your affectionate father." [Illustration: PHILIP V.--Page 477.] Helene resisted, prayed, wept, but was forced to obey. She profited by a moment of solitude to write to Gaston, as we have seen. Then she left this dwelling which had become dear to her, for there she had found her father and received her lover. As to Gaston, he waited vainly at the barrier, till, giving up all hope, he returned to the hotel. As he crossed the garden of the Tuileries, eight o'clock struck. At that moment Dubois entered the regent's bedchamber with a portfolio under his arm, and a triumphant smile on his face. CHAPTER XIX. THE ARTIST AND THE POLITICIAN. "Ah! it is you, Dubois," exclaimed the regent, as his minister entered. "Yes, monseigneur," said Dubois, taking out some papers. "Well, what do you say to our Bretons now?" "What papers are those?" asked the regent, who, in spite of the preceding day's conversation, or perhaps because of it, felt a secret sympathy with De Chanlay. "Oh, nothing at all, first a little report of what passed yesterday evening between M. de Chanlay and his excellency the Duc d'Olivares." "You listened, then?" said the regent. "Pardieu, monseigneur, what did you expect that I should do?" "And you heard?" "All. What do you think of his Catholic majesty's pretensions?" "I think that perhaps they use his name without his consent." "And Cardinal Alberoni? Tudieu! monseigneur, how nicely they manage Europe: the pretender in England; Prussia, Sweden, and Russia tearing Holland to pieces; the empire recovering Sicily and Naples; the grand duchy of Tuscany for Philip the Fifth's son; Sardinia for the king of Savoy; Commanchio for the pope; France for Spain; really, this plan is somewhat grand, to emanate from the brain of a bell-ringer." "All smoke! these prospects," said the duke; "mere dreams." "And the Breton league, is that all smoke?" "I am forced to own that that really exists." "And the dagger of our conspirator; is that a dream?" "No; it even appeared to me likely to be vigorously handled." "Peste! monseigneur, you complained in the other plot that you found none but rose-water conspirators. Well, this time I hope you are better pleased. These fellows strike hard." "Do you know," said the regent, thoughtfully, "that the Chevalier de Chanlay is of an energetic and vigorous nature." "Ah, the next thing will be, you will conceive a great admiration for this fellow. I know, monseigneur, that you are capable of it." "How is it that a prince always finds such natures among his enemies, and not among friends?"