The man shrugged his shoulders and did as he was bidden. It was none of his business where his fares wanted to be taken, as long as they paid him; and, as we touched the bank, I dropped a gold Henri into his palm and sprang ashore, leaving him alternately looking at the coin and staring after me in blank amazement as I hurried along the quay. I had, however, effected my object and avoided the Capuchin, and, in my present frame of mind, that was worth even more than the gold piece I placed in the boatman’s hands. It now wanted but a half-hour to compline, and with a beating heart I hurried on to keep my tryst. The shortest way was by the old church of St. Thomas, and turning sharply to my right, I followed the narrow street until I had passed the Magasins. A little beyond was the riding school, and beyond that again the grove of lime-trees, in which I had told Badehorn to keep the horses. I hastened thither, and found him there. He had left my house soon after I had, and could give me no news of what had happened since. But I afterward learned that shortly after I had gone, M. de Bresy, with some of the archer-guard, had arrived to effect my arrest, and failing in that, had destroyed almost everything they could lay their hands on. It was the fortune of war; but on a subsequent occasion I had my turn with de Bresy, as will be seen hereafter. Having seen that the horses were safe, I retraced my steps until I came to the wicket-gate. Opening it with my key, I stepped in, and found myself in the outer gardens of the Louvre. A long avenue of trees stretched before me, the grass-grown ride between them in checkered light and shade. To the left rose the walls of the riding school, and beyond was the gray line of the inner wall of the Louvre, and the terraces of the private gardens of the palace; but there was no soul to be seen. “Marie! Marie!” I called out in a low but clear voice. There was no answer. Overhead the leaves shivered, and from without the hum of the city came to me, rising and falling with the wind like the murmur of distant waves on a lone seashore. Was she going to fail me? Had anything happened to prevent her coming? I felt my heart grow cold at the thought, and peering into the moonlit night listened and listened full of anxious fears; but I heard no sound of advancing footsteps, saw nothing but the ivy-grown walls of the riding school, the wavering trees, and the phantom outlines of the Louvre looming vast and gigantic in the night. All at once from the Queen’s Terrace I heard the challenge of a sentry, and as it died away the bells of the Augustins began to sound the compline, and abbey and church took up the peal till all Paris rang with the musical chime of bells.