"Is there any hair-dresser in this neighborhood?"
"About a hundred paces from here, on the Place de la Bastille," replied Bridoul.
"On! on!" shouted the executioners.
And taking the head of the unfortunate Princess they departed, accompanied by the crowd that had followed them from the prison. A few moments later the saloon was empty. Bridoul hastened into the back room. Coursegol followed him. Fortunately the two women had not seen what had occurred, and, thanks to Cornelia Bridoul's friendly offices, Dolores had regained her composure.
"First of all, are you classed among the suspected characters?" the wine merchant inquired of Coursegol. "Are you trying to escape from your pursuers? Must I conceal you?"
"No," replied Coursegol "We have come to Paris in the hope of finding Monsieur Philip."
"Our old captain?"
"The same," answered Coursegol, at once recounting the events with which the reader is already familiar. When the recital was ended, Bridoul spoke in his turn.
"I am willing to swear that the captain is not in Paris. If he were, he, like all the rest of the nobles, would have been in great danger; and in peril, he would certainly have thought of his old soldier, Bridoul, for he knows he can rely upon my devotion."