"I would tell you that beside the date there was no name given for the prisoner, it being the usage to replace the name with a number. I would add, that, struck by the singular coincidence between the date and the time of father's disappearance, I went down to visit cell No. 18, as was indicated in the register--" "And then?" exclaimed Madam Lebrenn feverishly, and with growing anxiety. "The cell was empty. But they told me that the prisoner who occupied it was an old man grown blind, alas, during his confinement. I asked where they had taken the unfortunate man, and dashed off to seek him. Isn't this all interesting, mother?" "Why do you break off your story? For I feel that your supposings are but preparations for some revelation that you are about to make. You look away from me--John, my boy, my dear boy!" cried Madam Lebrenn, reaching towards her son and making him turn his face up to her--"You weep! No more doubt of it--Lord God! the old man--was--he was--" She could not finish. The word died on her lips, and she nearly swooned away. John, still kneeling before her, sustained her in his arms, saying: "Courage, good mother. Hear the end of my tale." "Courage, say you? But you are deceiving me, then? It was not then--your father?" "It was he! 'Twas indeed he whom I held in my arms. He lived--you shall see him soon. But, poor dear mother, have courage. We are not yet at the end of our trials." "Since your father lives, courage is easy to me! Let them bring him to us quick!" "Alas, you forget that in his dungeon father lost his sight. Besides, the weight of his irons, the humidity of his cell, have palsied, have paralyzed his limbs. He can hardly drag himself along." "But he lives! Ah, well! His infirmities will render him more dear to us," cried Madam Lebrenn in lofty exaltation, and suddenly rising. "Let us go to meet him." "One moment, good mother. They are bringing him to us. But I have still to prepare you for another piece of good fortune. You know the proverb, good mother, 'Good fortune never comes singly.' But, first, I want to acquaint you with the person who broke open father's cell, who freed him from his irons, and who bestowed upon him the simple cares that he long needed." "Tell me, dear son, who was your father's liberator?" "His liberator was a woman--an intrepid, heroic woman, who during the assault of the Bastille braved the fire of musketry and cannon and led the attackers, red flag in hand. Under a perfect hail of bullets she let down the drawbridge across one of the moats of the fortress, and was the first to run to the dungeons to free the prisoners. It was she who rescued father from his living grave." "Blessed be that woman! I shall cherish her as a daughter!"