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Show the theme of Paris conversation during a few days, and it came to the ears- of the king, who was as much perplexed and amused as other people. The Cardinal Flsury sent for Isez, and made him tell the whole story with his own lips. Mile. Aisie, writing to Mme. Calandrini, soon after the adventure, eays: "There have beeu a thousand conjectures, but none seem probable; fur myself, I believe be-lieve that it was a practical Joke of some young men, who amused themselves by frightening the. surgeon." ' . It was quite true that the surgeon had been frightened. Probably those persons who laughed at his fears would have been still more alarmed had they been in his place. A day or two after the adventure Isez found time to walk along the Kue du Pot-de-fer; he found that the door by which he had entered the mysterious house had disappeared. The blank wall was there, blanker tban ever. This was strange; and Isez was unable even to tind any traces in the wail to indicate where the door had beeu. Moreover, Manette, who knew every street in Paris, and whose eyes, though aged, were remarkably keen, declared that there never had been before, and never was afterward, any door in that blauk wall. The fashionable surgeon might almost have forgotten his adventure in the Rue du Pot-de-fer had it not been kept in his mind by other singular persons and strange events. PART II THE nOHSEMAJT IN BLACK. A summons came from tho Due de Ges-vres, Ges-vres, and Iez had no choice but to obey it immediately. This famous invalid was perpetually per-petually in need of a doctor, and as his ailments ail-ments were incurable he was a valuable patient. pa-tient. When taking leave of the groom of the chambers after seeing the sick man, he ventured ven-tured to remind him of the fact that the due owed him a large sum of money. "You are right, monsieur," was tho reply, "and M. le Due has irstructed me to pay you 50 louis ou account." Isez would have preferred the whole amount due him, but thought it as well to take what was offered. He placed the mnnpv in nn'pa ftnrl frnlri within thA nnriti that there was no room for doubt of the Identity Iden-tity of Eugene Durant and the black highwayman. high-wayman. Butlsez could not bring himself to believe that his respected old iriend was to blame in the matter. Goodness is not always hereditary. he-reditary. Troubled and alarmed, the surgeon sur-geon could not lie down, but sat through the night in an easy chair, and as soon as daylight appeared quietly left his room and sought t.:at which on the previous evening the colonel bad pointed out as his own. When Isez opened the door he saw a plainly-furnished apartment, and on the cur-tainless cur-tainless bed the figure of the fine old officer, sleeping calmly and restfuliy. This sight confirmed Isez in his opinion that Colonel Durant knew nothing of his son's nightly robberies. , "Durant, my dear old friend," said Isez in a low voice, "will you listen to me for a little lit-tle while?" In a moment Durant was wide awake. He sat up and saw by Isez's countenance that something was wrong. "Durant, I have a sad and terrible thing to say to you: can you bear to hear it?" "Speak plainlv. What is it?" "Dear friend, it was your son who robbed me last night." "Great heaven!" muttered the colonel, "impossible!" "It is better," said Isez, speaking rapidly, "that you should learn it from me than from the law, which 6hould be less merciful than I am. t-ooncr or later he must fall into the hands of justice. That your son should take up this abominable trade is almost incredible in-credible " "Impossible," sighed the poor father again, and fell back on his pillow insensible. Iez fanned him and sprinkled his face with water, and presently saw him recovered from the swoon. When hii strength returned, Durant sprang from the bed, hurried on some clothing and rushed toward the door, crying: "Tho coward, thief ! My son a robber! My son a highwayman! My son a felon! I thank God that his mother is dead and that he has no sister. I will not hare such a son. He shall die! Let me pass, Isez, let me nass! I will kill him!" No. 7 Rue du Pelerin was an ordinary-looking ordinary-looking house, standing - flush with other houses, and having nothing remarkable about It, The jalousies of the windows were closed, and the whole place appeared uninhabited. unin-habited. A stout, middle-aged woman appeared ap-peared to be the concierge. She was unwill-iuir unwill-iuir to admit Isez; ind it was only after long parleying and many assurances that he had been there before as surgeon to an invalid, that she had allowed him to enter. As soon as he had permission to do so, he ascended the stairs, and on the first floor found all the doors locked and barred. He knocked several sev-eral times, but no reply came. He was about to ascend another flight and make further eiforts, when a man "came running down the stairs and was recoecized by Isez as one of the lackeys whom he had seen on the night of his adventure. "Monsieur," said Isez, addressing the man, who was now in ordinary dress, "I have come to inquire after the health of the gentleman in white. It is about time that he was again let blood." "He was given no orders on the subject," was' the man's reply. "I also have a message for him," said Isez; "I spent last night at the house or Colonel Henon-Durant." The countenance of tbe man showed surprise sur-prise and interest. "Come with me." They went upstairs and entered the ante-chamber, where now the white furniture was soiled and shabby. "Be seated, M. Isez," said the lackey, "and tell me what you tiave to sav." Isez then told the story of what" had happened hap-pened on the previous evening, but without naming the name of the black horseman. As h- spoke he saw that the man's interest was aroused and increased. At the point of the robbery a cunning smile played over the face ol the servant, flit at the account of the death of the young Eugene Durant, the man held his breath and listened with the most eager excitement. "What what was the name ?" "Eugene Henou-Durant, son of Colonel "It is he!" exclaimed the man. "Dead dead!" "Your master?" said Isez. IN THE RUE DU POT-DE-FER. A Story Told From the Letters of Mademoiselle Made-moiselle Alike. s TXKT I THE INVALID IX WHITE. Jean Francois Isez, the famous sureeon, had retired to his apartments after a professional pro-fessional round, and had hardly begun to eat the dinner which his old servant, Manette, erved to him, when a note was brought to him. He inquired who had brought it, but the concierge had not noticed the messenger. messen-ger. It was one afternoon early in April, 1T27; the place was Paris, and Isez was the most fashionable doctor of the day, and much in request among the fine ladies and gentlemen of France. The note, a sheet of white paper written on in pale ink, and in very small, uncharacteristic uncharac-teristic handwriting, contained these words: "L, the surgeon, J. F. Isez, is prayed to betake himself this afternoon, at ti o'clock, to the Kue du Pot-de-fer, near Luxemburg." Luxem-burg." There was no signature. M. Isez threw on him his cloak with the velvet collar, called a sedan chair and hurried hur-ried away to his unknown patient. By the time that Isez arrived at the Rue du Pot-der-fer it was quite dark. The oil lamps, swinging here and there, gave but little licht. Ou one side of the street were the doors of old-fashioned houses; on the other a few shops and cabarets, succeeded by a long, high blank wall. As Isez's chairman chair-man picked their stumbling steps over the cobbles they sounded loud in the silent street, and they saw no living creature save a few dogs and cats prowling about and sniffling at the heaps of refuse thrown in the road. But when they had proceeded about half the length of the wall they became aware of trange figure which sat in a fauteuil besides the fireplace of white tiles, on which burnt an open fire o. coal and wood the only touch of color aud brightness which Isez had seen in the ghostly house. A tall, stout person this appearud to be, wearing a white satin nightcap and a white satin dressing-gowu dressing-gowu lined with white fur. A white mask covered his face, of which only two pale blue eyes could be seen. As soon as this extraordinary, fantastic figure saw Isez enter he said in a monotonous, monoto-nous, hoarse voice: "The devil is inside my body." Isez waited to hear more, but not another word followed. He remained standing for some time, but nothing was said by the pa-tieut. pa-tieut. who did not even raise his eyes again, or look at the surgeon. As well as Isez could judge, three-quarters of an hour passed without a single remark on either side. A table stood beside the invalid. On it lay a heap of gloves. He took up a white silk glove and slowly put it on his left hand; then he put one on his right hand. Over these he put a pair of satin ones; next a pair of kid ones, by this time his hands looked enormous. The fourth pair were of white velvet; the fifth pair of fine wool; the sixth pair of ermine. The hands appeired now as those of a giant. Isez watched these doings with interest which deepened into alarm. As soon as the six pairs of gloves were on the. invalid began to take them off again, with much deliberation, folding them neat y together in pairs. At lenirth reappeared his waxen, unwholesome-looking hands. Isez was furtively glancing around the room. In one coi ner stood a sword in a whita scabbard: in another a musket with the stock painted white ; two pistols of white wood mounted in silver lay on a side table. Isez was unarmed and did not like what he saw; he found himself tremoling, and dreaded lest he should fall. Although he had not been invited to do so, he seated himself. A silence ensued, lasting a quarter of an hour. At the end of that time the phantom pulled a bell cord which hung near his chair. The two white lackeys entered. "Bring baudages," said the wooden voice to them. The men went out and returned with several sev-eral strips of linen. "Bleed me," said the figure; "take five pounds of blood." "Isez started back, astonished at the quantity. "But, monsieur," he cried, "what physician phys-ician has ordered you to be lut such au enormous enor-mous quantity of blood'?" "Myself." Tho surgeon did not know what to do. He dared not disobey, with those lackeys and firearms all around him ; yet ho could not follow out instructions that would kill the patient. He thought that to bleed from the foot would be less dangerous than the arm. "Warm water, if you please," ho said to the lackeys; one of them brought it in a white china basin. The other knelt and took off the phantom's fine whitethread stockings; then a second pair, and so on until un-til six pairs had been drawn oil, as well as a pair of white fur slippers lined with white stin. Then the surgeon beheld a beautiful leg aud foot, as white and delicate as those of a woman. He began to bleed; very shortly the patient pa-tient appeared unwell and likely to faint. "Take oft his mask," 6aid Isez. "and give him air." The lackeys interposed, and prevented Isez from touching their master. He was laid on the floor; the surgeon bound up the foot. Presently the invalid began to recover. re-cover. "Let them warm the bed," he whispered. "This was quickly done with a -white metal warming-pan, and the sick man assisted as-sisted to place himself in the bed. Ise felt his pulse and perceived that all was well again, and the servants left the room. The surgeon went to the fireplace and wiped his lancet on some of the linen strips, wondering what could be the explanation of this strange adventure, when he suddenly heard steps behind him, and, glancing into the mirror over the mantlepieee, beheld the patient fling himself from bed, and, with one bound, place himself beside the terrified surgeon, sur-geon, who almost dropped with horror and astonishment. a man 3 iigure, iuuliuuicsd. iuib mau, as soon as he saw Isez's chair, ap- froached and said: "Do I speak to M. sez?" "Yes, I am he," replied the surgeon. "You are late. It is long past 0 o'clock." "I have only just received the note. I camo at once. I did not even wait to finish my dinner." "Dinner!" the man repeated in a tone of infinite contempt. "Follow me." The stranger led the way. lie was plainly clothed in black, and Isez could judge nothing noth-ing from his manner as to the meaning of this adventure. They went a few steps along the street, and then the stranger opened, by some secret means, a narrow door in the wall, and motioned to Isez to enter. The surgeon did so; the door closed behind him, shutting out the man who had acted as his guide. He found himself in a small court-yard, and facing him was the entrance of a house ; a porch, with a row of pillars, showing through the darkness. A porter appeared and ushered Isez into a wide hall, paved with marble, from which a line staircase led to the upper stories. There was nothing remarkable about the porter, and Isez believed himself to be In the hotel of some noble or wealthy gentleman. "Monsieur is expected on the fir.t floor, if Tie will give himself the trouble to mount," said the porter, indicating the staircase. Isez went up. Facing him was a door, half open, through which light shone. He , passed by It into aa ante-chamber hung with white. It was singular, even startling. The walls were covered with white velvet; chairs and sofas were of the same material; the carpet was of plain, thick, white wool, and every step which Isez made left a deep depression. A small table of white wood supported a white china lamp, which burnt but feebly. Of other furniture there was none. A lackey was in this room, a young man tall and handsome, clothed entirely in white coat, waistcoat, breeches, stockings, shoes, all in dead white material; his hair was tied with a white silk bow; white lace ruffles at his neck and wrists; his skin was of a peculiar white tint, which struck the professional pro-fessional eye of Isez aa being morbid and diseased. "M. Isez," he said, coming to meet the Burgeon, "be so good as to wipe your shoes." And he handed him a linen duster which lay beside the lamp. "And, thrusting aside the surgeon, who tried to restrain him, Durant rushed from the room and up the stairs into the apartment apart-ment where the young man lay sleeping, or pretending to sleep. On the table near the window lay Isez's watch and his seal bearing his monotrrarn. The father paused to examine them. There was no doubt of the Infamy of the handsome hand-some young' fellow, who now was standing in the middle of the floor, clothed in the black garments which he had worn the previous pre-vious night. "Wretch! Scoundrel!" cried the colonel, "is it for this that I have been the most lov-rng lov-rng of fathers? How Ionic have you pursued pur-sued the trade of robber? But you shall pursue it no longer!" Eugene Durant saw that he had lost the game. He pushed past his father, but at the door was met by Isez, who barred his way. At the same moment Colonel Durant saw the two pistols lying beside the watch and seal. He lifted one of them; there was a flash, and his son fell bleeding into the arms of Isez. Not even this pitiable sight his son murdered mur-dered and weltering in his blood could assuage as-suage Duraut's anger. He poured out fierce words, and filled the house with his cries of rage and reproach. It was only when Isez, stauching the wound, removed one after another an-other the blood-stained rags, which the tsilcnt servant brought to him, and when that handsome young face grew whiter and calmer, when the eyes took a fixed glassy stare, and the lips trying to speak could but whisper; it was only when death shadowed the face and figure of his child, that Colonel Durant ceased to utter reproaches, and bowed his head in sorrow. "Father," murmured, the pallid lips, "for give me if you can." Durant made no reply. ' The dying man spoke again, but no one could hear what he said. A second time he tried to make himself heard, but iu vain. Isez leaned over and astened, but caught only the words, "Kue du Pot-de-fer." And then, without another sound or sign, with only one great gasp, tho youth died. Durant was as one stunned. He was led away by his servants, while Isez disposed decently on the bed the corpse of the wretched young-' man. He had hardly finished fin-ished his task when Durant came into the room, dressed in his uniform and wearing his orders, his bearing erect, his gait steady aud his eye clear ana hrm. "Our horses are ready," he said to Isez; "our horse and mine. You return home. I go to the authorities to give myself up for murder." What could Isez reply ? They rode away together, aud as soon as they entered Paris, i he colonel went off at a trot, while Isez rode on ciutetlv to his home. He f ound Mi. "My master, and dead all over the strange masquesrade, the rollicking life, the escapades on the roads, the purses of old the splendid furniture, the practical jokes' the magnificent suppers and ho is dead' and all is overt Well, better that than a madhouse, to . whieh it must have come at last!" "Was he, then, insane?" asked Isez. "At times. Oh, his life was a strange one. Perhaps for a week living quietly with his father; then some night he would take to the road, either with us or alone, and he would ride in here in the early morning with money and va.uables, and he would send us out to bring in all that was expensive and delicious, and we would feast and gamble and live the wildest life while the money lasted, after which would begin azain the round of Colonel Durant's quiet home and the road once more. And he is dead,' and what shall we do?" ' "On that evening in April," said Isez. ''when I was last here, was the young gentleman gen-tleman in his right mind?" "Sir, drink and play made him often insane. in-sane. He had once a wild fancy to fill this house with everything white; and when that was done he found himself ill at ease and sent me with a note to summon you to bleed him. After that evening funds got low. Our whiteness was quickly smirched. He and I robbed many a traveler and many a mail. My fellow-lackey generally kept house here with the porter guardin? the garden entrance. But if Eugene is dead, then all is over. We must tae care of ourselves. our-selves. Sir, we must go lest the officers of justice find us." With those words the man passed in the second room. There sat the other lackey, practicing some trick by which to cheat at cards. "Eugene is dead; let us save ourselves!" The two men went Into the bedroom formerly that of the unhappy Eugene. They snatched up the firearms which stood in the corners, and opening what looked like the door of a cupboard, stepped on a landing of the main 6tairease. They ran down, and Isez saw them no more. Whether they continued to act as highwaymen he never knew, but he thought that they were hardly likely to repent and amend. Mile. Aisse, in writing of the murder of Eugene Henon-Durant by his father, says that the colonel "went immediately to ask for pardon; every one was of opinion that it should be granted. A good man finding his son to be a highwayman is overwhelmed with such grief that his brain may well give way under it." But Jean Francis Isez never forarot the invalid iu white and the highwayman in black one aud the same miserable young man. Bayard Harrison. hanging under the skirt of his coat, and then started through the dark night on his homeward journey. Soon after ieaving the Chateau of St. Oner the road passed through a small but thick wood. Isez could hardly see the track, and held his bridle very siackly, trusting to the eyes and tht- sagacity of hi. horse to find his way in safety. Ise was feeling comfortable, comfort-able, after a very good supper and very acceptable ac-ceptable payment; be was thinking over the white invalid of the Kue du Pot-de-fer, when suddenly a man clothed in black, and mounted on a black horse, sprang from among the trees, and seised the bridle out ot the surgeon's hand. "Your money!" said the hijrhwayman-"N6, hijrhwayman-"N6, no," gasped Isez. terrified and powerless. pow-erless. "Your money!" repeated the robber, holding hold-ing a pistol to the surtreoii's head. Bis teeth chattered too much to allow him to expostulate, and unarmed as ho was, Isez, never valorous, gave up his purse containing contain-ing the 00 louis. The highwayman then pulled out Isez's watch, to which was attached a gold seal, ! and transferred them to his own pocket. Next he bade the unfortunate man dis- i mount and grasped the bridle of the surgeon's sur-geon's horse. "You can walk home. Good ni-ht!" Aud away rode the robber, humming an air from the ballet called "Les Elements," while poor Isez stood on the path, deprived of his money, his watch and seal, aud his trusty steed. What could he do in the middle mid-dle of a dark night and a league from the outskirts of Paris i There was nothing to do but to go on foot, and, very sadly aud wearily, he began to walk. He was too much distressed to be able to think clearly, and he hardly noticed how he was going. But soon he emerged from the little wood and found himself on an open road. A short distance braught him to a house a good, though not grand house with an iron gate in the middle of its front. "I will ask whose house it is," said the surgeon, "and beg permission to rest awhile and recruit myself." When he knocked at tho gate, and old manservant man-servant responded to the summons. "My good friend," groaned Isez, "I have beea robbed by a highwayman. Will your master allow me to come iu and rest a while?" "We cannot admit strangers," answered tho man; "it is late." Isez groaned again. "What is the name of your master, my friend?" "He is M. le Colonel Henon-Durant." "Ah, is it so? Then he knows me well. We were good friends long ago. Tell bun that Jean Francois Isez craves shelter for the night." The janitor retired, and presently appeared tho colonel, a brave and eood man. for On the marble chimneypiece lay five crowns. The phantom figure took them in its waxen fingers and held them out to Isez. "Are you satisfied with the fee?" "Yes, yes, monsieur," replied Isez, trembling; trem-bling; "quite satisfied." "Then go!" Isez did not require to be told twice. He took .to his heels aul rau into the outer apartments. There the lackeys awaited him. - He gazed from one to the other. "Is this some foolish pleasantry, some bad Jest?" he asked, growing angry now that he found no bodily harm wa3 intended to him. "What does this mean?" "Monsieur," answered one of the men, "of what have you to complain?" . "Have you not been well paid?" asked the other; have you been injured?" Isez found that he had nothing really to complain of; he shrugged his shoulders. The lackeys took each a flambeau and led him with all due ceremony through the narrow nar-row ante-chamber, down the stairs by tbe hall and the court-yard to the littic door in the Rue du Pot-de-fer, where his chair awaited him. Very thankful he was to leave the strange, phantasmal house, and to arrive safeiy at his own abode. He coul not understand I the meaning of this adventure; whether some ghastly secret was, imprisoned in that white chamber, or whefaer the whole affair had been a practical joke. At all events the five crowns in his pocket were real enough. He resolved not to speak to any one of what had happened. A doctor is privileged like a priest in confession; he would keep his own counsel. So ha went to his bed, and had fantastic dreams. -- la the morning, before he was up, Manette Man-ette was called down to speak with a young gentleman, who inquired how M. Isez found himself after his blood-letting of a white roan. Mancttc knew nothing about the matter. "But I will inquire of monsieur;" for her curiosity was aroused on her owu account. "Madame need not trouble herself," said the young mau; "it is of no consequence. And bowing politely, ho disappeared down the Rue de l'Aubepine. Manette returned to her kitchen, pondered pond-ered a good deal, and while her master took hi3 coffee, told him of the young gentleman's gentle-man's visit. Iez perceived that his venture was known. His tongue was untiod, and he talked of it wherever "he went. It became "It is not necessary," answered Isez; "I have only just got out of my chair, and my shoes are not muddy." "Nevertheless," returned the lackey, "it must be done as a precaution. Everything in this house is of extreme cleanliness, and you must be so good as to wipe your shoes." Isez shrugged his shoulders and obeyed. He rubbed his shoes with tha duster and showed the man that hardly a speck of dust came off on the cloth. The servant bowed gravely. "This way," said he, moving down the narrow room toward a door opposite to that by which the surgeon had entered. Through this door Isez passed into a larger lar-ger apartment, hung with white silk. It contained handsome furniture of white wood upholstered in white silk- The carpet was of roughly woven silk. There were several marble tables, china vases, lace curtains, alabaster candlesticks, and various other ornamental or-namental articles decorated the room; and Isez saw at one glance that all through was of the same uniform shade of white, yet all was in the highest degree handsome and expensive. ex-pensive. A second lackey approached, also a good-looking good-looking but pallid young man. He, too, was powdered and curled, and clothed in white; but whereas the first had worn cioth, this man's garments were of thick-ribbed silk. By this time Isez was growing somewhat some-what accustomed to the dazzling white tones all around him, and also the air of mystery whloh pervaded the house. He was not surprised, sur-prised, therefore, when the lackey handed him a second linen cloth and bade him wipe his shoes a second time. He did it in bile nee, and found not even a suspicion of dust. This ceremony ended, the servant opened another door and ushered Isez into a third room. Again, the room was entirely in white. Tbe walls were hung with fluted satin; the sofas and chairs were covered with broohe satin; the carpet was of satin, on which was a raised pattern of flowers in velvet: a large bed with heavy satin curtains and thick quilt stood at one side of the room. A dressing tablo was In the bay window, from which every breath of air was excluded by voluminous volumi-nous draperies. The atmosphere was heavy, as if never purified by sunshine or breeze, but always lighted up by white wax candles In girandoles against the walls. The inhabitant of this chamber was a uctte much alarmed by his absence during the night. j "Was the duke very bad, dying? Or did ' you fall in with high way mm?" This was' asked with a suiiie. Isez to tue no actual answer, but asked for his entice. As usual, the old woman was a long time in preparing it, and when Isez fuund iauit witu her she echoed his complaints, and endorsed his threats. But at length she brought the coffee so well made that lie forgave her ail delays, and while he drank she talked. "I have made up my old quarrel with the concierge, monsieur She is a good woman, aud has a brother who lives in the Rue du Pot-de-fer. As soon as she mentioned her brother I made it up with her." "But why?" says Isez. "Do you wa.:t to marry him?" "An, monsieur must have his joke," laughed Manette; "no, but I could not rest until 1 found out about the house where monsieur went that evening in April. The brother says that the door by which monsieur mon-sieur entered was never there but tho one night. A bit of the wall was knocked down, and a door set up; and after monsieur had been and gone the door was taken away, and the wall rebuilt with the old bricks, so that no one could see that any trick had been played witu it." "Ah, my good Manette, but fchy all that mystery? And is there no front to the house?" "Of the reason of the mystery I know nothing; but the brother says that the front of the house is No. 7 Rue du Plerin." "Perhaps," returned Isez, indifferently; but he went out immediately and took his i way to the Rue du Pelerin. He felt persuaded per-suaded that when Eugene Durant speke with his dying breath these words, "Rue du Pot-de-fer," he referred to the house where Isez had found the white inralid. There must be some connection between tnat strange being and the young man who had so disgraced himself and had come to so tragic an end at the hand of his own father. whom Isez had the highest respect aud the 6tncerest affection. At once tbe surgeon was led in, and brought to a pleasant room, where supper was laid. "I give you welcomo," said the colonel, courteously; "pray be seated and partake ol supper. We will wait no longer for my son, who is late this evening." Isez thanked his host, but decliaed to eat, only accepting a glass of claret, ne told his adventure and the unfortunate loss of his money and purse. "My purse and my house are at your disposal, dis-posal, my good friend," said Henon-Durant; "remain here this night aud to-morrow accept ac-cept such a sum as may serve your necessities. necessi-ties. You can repay it at your convenience." Isez thanked the colonel with gratitude, and had begun to inquire as to the family of his friend when a young man entered, whom he ot once rucognized as the highwayman who had robbed him. "My son Eugene," said Colonel Henon-Durant, Henon-Durant, presenting the youth to Isez. The latter was too much astonished to utter ut-ter a word, except to plead fatigu. and aik to be shown to his room. The colonel attended at-tended him to the door of a bed-chamber, and there left him. Alone he felt utterly bewildered. Was he in the house of a cut-throat? Was tho father as bad as the son? Was the brave, generous old soldier an accomplice with a highwayman? or was Isez deceived by an accidental likeness between the robber and Eugene Durant? His first thought was to rush away from this dangerous house. But every door by this time was barred, aud he dared not attempt it. The surgeou gasped for air. lie opened the casement and let the cool breeze blow on his forehead. While standing by the window win-dow he heard, as he thought, the whinnying of his own horse. He responded by a whistle whis-tle which he often employed to cheer trie faithful animal. A further whinny made it certain to Isez's mind that his horse wa in the stable of Coionel Durant's house, and |