the troop moved forward, I went with them, silent and apathetic.

We passed through the gate of Cahors, and no doubt the scene was worthy
of note; but I had only a listless eye for it--much such an eye as a
man about to be broken on the wheel must have for that curious
instrument, supposing him never to have seen it before. The whole
population had come out to line the streets through which we rode, and
stood gazing, with scarcely veiled looks of apprehension, at the
procession of troopers and the stern face of the new governor.

We dismounted passively in the courtyard of the castle, and were for
going in together, when Bure intervened. "M. de Pavannes," he said,
pushing rather rudely between us, "will sup alone to-night. For you,
gentlemen, this way, if you please."

I went without remonstrance. What was the use? I was conscious that
the Vidame from the top of the stairs leading to the grand entrance was
watching us with a wolfish glare in his eyes. I went quietly. But I
heard Croisette urging something with passionate energy.

We were led through a low doorway to a room on the ground floor; a
place very like a cell. Were we took our meal in silence. When it was
over I flung myself on one of the beds prepared for us, shrinking from
my companions rather in misery than in resentment.

No explanation had passed between us. Still I knew that the other two
from time to time eyed me doubtfully. I feigned therefore to be
asleep, but I heard Bure enter to bid us good-night--and see that we
had not escaped. And I was conscious too of the question Croisette put
to him, "Does M. de Pavannes lie alone to-night, Bure?"

"Not entirely," the captain answered with gloomy meaning. Indeed he
seemed in bad spirits himself, or tired. "The Vidame is anxious for
his soul's welfare, and sends a priest to him."

They sprang to their feet at that. But the light and its bearer, who
so far recovered himself as to chuckle at his master's pious thought,
had disappeared. They were left to pace the room, and reproach
themselves and curse the Vidame in an agony of late repentance. Not
even Marie could find a loop-hole of escape from here. The door was
double-locked; the windows so barred that a cat could scarcely pass
through them; the walls were of solid masonry.

Meanwhile I lay and feigned to sleep, and lay feigning through long,
long hours; though my heart like theirs throbbed in response to the
dull hammering that pre