"No," I said regretfully; "but they may keep him overnight."
"Aye, he may be out of mischief overnight. I am happy to say that my face is not known at the Bastille."
"Nor his, I take it. I thought from what I heard last night that he had never been in Paris save for a while in the spring, when he lay perdu. At the Bastille they may know nothing of the existence of a Paul de Lorraine. But, monsieur, if Mayenne has broken his word already, if they are arresting you on this trumped-up charge, you must get out of the gates to-night."
"Impossible," he answered, smiling; "I have an engagement in Paris."
"But monsieur may not keep it. He must go to St. Denis."
"I must go nowhere but to the Hôtel Lorraine."
"Monsieur!"
"Why, look you, Félix; it is the safest spot for me in all Paris; it is the last place where they will look for me. Besides, now that they think me behind bars, they will not be looking for me at all. I shall be as safe as the hottest Leaguer in the camp."
"But in the hôtel-"
"Be comforted; I shall not enter the hôtel. There is a limit to my madness. No; I shall go softly around to a window in the side street under which I have often stood in the old days. She used to contrive to be in her chamber after supper."