“You are right, sir; he is my son,” said the minister, as a pleased smile passed over his swarthy features. “Come, I think I must get you safe through your dilemma. Take this; the officer of the night will be satisfied with the explanation, and Monsieur Legrange will not hear of it.” So saying, he seized a pen, and writing a few lines rapidly on a piece of paper, he folded it note fashion, and handed it to De Beauvais. “A handsome ring, sir!” said he, suddenly, and holding the fingers within his own; “a very costly one, too.” “Yes, sir,” said De Beauvais, blushing scarlet. “A cousin of mine--” “Ha, ha! an amourette, too. Well, well, young gentleman! no need of further confessions; lose no more time here. Bonsoir.” “Adieu, Burke,” said De Beauvais, shaking my hand with a peculiar pressure. “Adieu, Monsieur Gisquet. This order will pass me through the barrack, won't it?” “Yes; to be sure. You need fear no interference with my people either, go where you will this evening.” “Thanks, sir, once more,” said he, and departed. “Now for our business, Mr. Burke,” said the minister, opening his packet of papers before him, and commencing to con over its contents. “I shall ask you a few questions, to which you will please to reply with all the accuracy you can command, remembering that you are liable to be called on to verify any statement hereafter on oath. With whom did you speak on the evening of the 2d of May, at the soiree of Madame Bonaparte?” “I scarcely remember if I spoke to any one save Madame herself. A strange gentleman, whose name I forget, presented me; one or two others, also unknown to me, may have spoken a passing word or so; and when coming away I met Monsieur de Beauvais.” “Monsieur de Beauvais! who is he?” “_Ma foi_ I can't tell you. I saw him the day before for the first time; we renewed our acquaintance, and we supped together.” “At Beauvilliers's?” said he, interrupting. “Pardieu, Monsieur!” said I, somewhat stung at the espionage on my movements; “you seem to know everything so well already, it is quite needless to interrogate me any further.” “Perhaps not,” replied he, coolly. “I wish to have the names of the party you supped with.” “Well, there was one who was called the préfet, a large, full, elderly man.” “Yes, yes, I know him,” interrupted Gisquet again. “And the others?” “There was an abbé, and a secretary of the Russian mission.” “No other?” said he, in a tone of disappointment. “No one, save De Beauvais and myself; we were but five in all.” “Did no one come in daring the evening? “No, not any.” “Nor did any leave the party?” “No; we separated at the same moment.” “Who accompanied you to the barracks?” “No one; I returned alone.” “And this Monsieur de Beauvais,--you can't tell anything of him? What age is he? what height?” “About my own,” said I, blushing deeply at the thought of the events of a few moments back. “He may be somewhat older, but he looks not much more than twenty-one or two.”