astle, before faces as ugly as those about me. They really wish to cut
off our heads. Well! well! I repeat what I said just now, it is time to
go to chapel."

These words, uttered in a low tone, were followed by a silence, which in
turn was broken by a cry, shrill, piercing, lugubrious, unlike anything
human. It seemed to penetrate the thick walls, and vibrate against the
iron bars.

In spite of himself Coconnas shivered; and yet he was so brave that his
courage was like that of wild beasts. He stood still, doubting that the
cry was human, and taking it for the sound of the wind in the trees or
for one of the many night noises which seem to rise or descend from the
two unknown worlds between which floats our globe. Then he heard it
again, shriller, more prolonged, more piercing than before, and this
time not only did Coconnas distinguish the agony of the human tone in
it, but he thought it sounded like La Mole's.

As he realized this the Piedmontese forgot that he was confined behind
two doors, three gates, and a wall twelve feet thick. He hurled his
entire weight against the sides of the cell as though to push them out
and rush to the aid of the victim, crying, "Are they killing some one
here?" But he unexpectedly encountered the wall and the shock hurled him
back against a stone bench on which he sank down.

Then there was silence.

"Oh, they have killed him!" he murmured; "it is abominable! And one is
without arms, here, and cannot defend one's self!"

He groped about.

"Ah! this iron chain!" he cried, "I will take it and woe to him who
comes near me!"

Coconnas rose, seized the iron chain, and with a pull shook it so
violently that it was clear that with two such efforts he would wrench
it away.

But suddenly the door opened and the light from a couple of torches fell
into the cell.

"Come, monsieur," said the same voice which had sounded so disagreeable
to him, and which this time, in making itself heard three floors below,
did not seem to him to have acquired any new charm.

"Come, monsieur, the court is awaiting you."

"Good," said Coconnas, dropping his ring, "I am to hear my sentence, am
I not?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Oh! I breathe again; let us go," said he.

He followed the usher, who preceded him with measured tread, holding his
black rod.

In spite of the satisfaction he had felt at first, as he walked along
Coconnas glanced anxiously about him.

"Oh!" he murmured, "I do not perceive my