m for the
wretches who awaited the torture. Above these benches, at the seats
themselves, and at their feet, were iron rings fastened into the walls,
without other symmetry than that of the torturing art. But their
proximity to the seats sufficiently indicated that they were there in
order to await the limbs of those who were to occupy them.

Henry walked on without a word, but not a single detail of all the
hideous apparatus which, so to speak, had stamped the history of
suffering on the walls escaped him.

The king was so taken up with the objects about him that he forgot to
look where he was going, and came to a sudden standstill.

"Ah!" said he, "what is that?"

And he pointed to a kind of ditch dug in the damp pavement which formed
the floor.

"That is the gutter, sire."

"Does it rain here, then?"

"Yes, sire, blood."

"Ah!" said Henry, "very good. Shall we not soon reach my apartment?"

"Yes, my lord, here it is," said a figure in the dark, which, as it drew
nearer, became clearer and more distinguishable.

Henry thought he recognized the voice, and advanced towards the figure.

"So it is you, Beaulieu," said he. "What the devil are you doing here?"

"Sire, I have just received my appointment as governor of the fortress
of Vincennes."

"Well, my dear friend, your initiation does you honor. A king for a
prisoner is not bad."

"Pardon me, sire," said Beaulieu, "but I have already had two
gentlemen."

"Who are they? But, pardon me, perhaps I am indiscreet. If so, assume
that I have said nothing."

"My lord, I have not been ordered to keep it secret. They are Monsieur
de la Mole and Monsieur de Coconnas."

"Ah! that is true. I saw them arrested. Poor gentlemen, and how do they
bear this misfortune?"

"Differently. One is gay, the other sad; one sings, the other groans."

"Which one groans?"

"Monsieur de la Mole, sire."

"Faith," said Henry, "I can understand more easily the one who groans
than the one who sings. After what I have seen the prison is not a very
lively place. On what floor are they?"

"High up; on the fourth."

Henry heaved a sigh. It was there that he wished to be.

"Come, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said he, "be good enough to show me my
room. I am in haste to see it, as I am greatly fatigued from the journey
we have just made."

"This is it, my lord," said Beaulieu, pointing to an open door.

"Number two," said Henry; "why not number one?"

"Because that is reserved,