"Well, chevalier," said he, as Gaston entered, "how do you like my room? it is convenient, is it not? Sit down and taste this wine; it rivals the best Rosseau. Do you drink Rosseau? No, they do not drink wine in Bretagne; they drink cider or beer, I believe. I never could get anything worth drinking there, except brandy." Gaston did not reply, for he was so occupied that he had not even heard what La Jonquiere said. He threw himself in an easy chair, with his hand in his pocket, holding Helene's first letter. "Where is she?" he asked himself; "this immense, unbounded Paris may keep her from me forever. Oh! the difficulty is too great for a man without power or experience!" "Apropos," said La Jonquiere, who had followed the young man's ideas easily, "there is a letter for you." "From Bretagne?" asked the chevalier, trembling. "No; from Paris. A beautiful writing--evidently a woman's." "Where is it?" cried Gaston. "Ask our host. When I came in he held it in his hands." "Give it to me," cried Gaston, rushing into the common room. "What does monsieur want?" asked Tapin, with his usual politeness. "My letter." "What letter?" "The letter you received for me." "Pardon, monsieur; I forgot it." And he gave Gaston the letter. "Poor imbecile!" said the false La Jonquiere, "and these idiots think of conspiring. It is like D'Harmental; they think they can attend to love and politics at the same time. Triple fools; if they were to go at once to La Fillon's for the former, the latter would not be so likely to bring them to the Place de Greve." Gaston returned joyously, reading and re-reading Helene's letter. "Rue de Faubourg St. Antoine; a white house behind trees--poplars, I think. I could not see the number, but it is the thirty-first or thirty-second house on the left side, after passing a chateau with towers, resembling a prison." "Oh," cried Gaston, "I can find that; it is the Bastille." Dubois overheard these words. "Parbleu; I will take care you shall find it, if I lead you there myself." Gaston looked at his watch, and finding that it wanted two hours of the time appointed for his rendezvous in the Rue du Bac, took up his hat and was going out. "What! are you going away?" asked Dubois. "I am obliged to do so." "And our appointment for eleven o'clock?" "It is not yet nine." "You do not want me?" "No, thank you." "If you are preparing an abduction, for instance, I am an adept, and might assist you." "Thank you," said Gaston, reddening involuntarily, "but I am not." Dubois whistled an air, to show that he took the answer for what it was worth. "Shall I find you here on my return?" asked Gaston. "I do not know; perhaps I also have to reassure some pretty creature who is interested in me; but, at any rate, at the appointed hour you will find your yesterday's guide with the same carriage and the same coachman."