"I commanded there, and I am he."
"This was thirty-one years ago—my God! oh, my God!"
"Be calm, dear sir," said the Duke of Dorset.
"And you have been all that time in the Bastille?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"Horrible!" exclaimed the duke.
"You were arrested"—
"One night in the streets of Paris, near the Port St. Antoine, when I was at liberty upon parole, as a prisoner of war."
"When was this?"
"In 1761—three years after Ticonderoga."