"His projects, monsieur! what do you mean?"
"What! you do not know the object of his visit to Paris?"
"I do not, monsieur. When I told him, with tears in my eyes, that I was forced to leave Clisson, he said he must also leave Nantes. When I told him that I was coming to Paris, he answered, with a cry of joy, that he was about to set out for the same place."
"Then," cried the regent, his heart freed from an enormous load, "you are not his accomplice?"
"His accomplice!" cried Helene, alarmed; "ah, mon Dieu! what does this mean?"
"Nothing," said the regent, "nothing."
"Oh, yes, monsieur; you have used a word which explains all. I wondered what made so great a change in Gaston. Why, for the last year, whenever I spoke of our future, his brow became dark. Why, with so sad a smile, he said to me, 'Helene, no one is sure of the morrow.' Why he fell into such reveries, as though some misfortune threatened him. That misfortune you have shown me, monsieur. Gaston saw none but malcontents there—Montlouis, Pontcalec. Ah! Gaston is conspiring—that is why he came to Paris."
"Then you knew nothing of this conspiracy?"
"Alas, monsieur! I am but a woman, and, doubtless, Gaston did not think me worthy to share such a secret."
"So much the better," cried the regent; "and now, my child, listen to the voice of a friend, of a man who might be your father. Let the chevalier go on the path he has chosen, since you have still the power to go no further."