house with roars of laughter; instead of all this, he beheld himself
hurrying from the Rue Richer, hailing a cab on the Boulevard,
bargaining with the man to take him to Versailles. Then once more the
scene changed. He recognized the sorry inn at the corner of the Rue de
l'Orangerie and the Rue des Recollets, which was kept by his old
quartermaster. It was two o'clock in the morning, the most perfect
stillness prevailed, no one was there to watch his movements. The
post-horses were put into the carriage (it came from a house in the
Avenue de Paris in which an Englishman lived, and had been ordered in
the foreigner's name to avoid raising suspicion). Castanier saw that
he had his bills and his passports, stepped into the carriage, and set
out. But at the barrier he saw two gendarmes lying in wait for the
carriage. A cry of horror burst from him but Melmoth gave him a
glance, and again the sound died in his throat.

"Keep your eyes on the stage, and be quiet!" said the Englishman.

In another moment Castanier saw himself flung into prison at the
Conciergerie; and in the fifth act of the drama, entitled _The Cashier_,
he saw himself, in three months' time, condemned to twenty years of
penal servitude. Again a cry broke from him. He was exposed upon the
Place du Palais-de-Justice, and the executioner branded him with a
red-hot iron. Then came the last scene of all; among some sixty
convicts in the prison yard of the Bicetre, he was awaiting his turn
to have the irons riveted on his limbs.

"Dear me! I cannot laugh any more! . . ." said Aquilina. "You are very
solemn, dear boy; what can be the matter? The gentleman has gone."

"A word with you, Castanier," said Melmoth when the piece was at an