Part 163 (1/2)
”Why did this figure of a man have on a mantle and a crown?”
”Because it represented a king.”
”Infamous liar!” cried Coconnas, infuriated.
”Keep still, Coconnas, keep still,” interrupted La Mole, ”let the man speak; every one has a right to sell his own soul.”
”But not the bodies of others, by Heaven!”
”And what was the meaning of the needle in the heart of the figure, with the letter 'M' on a small banner?”
”The needle was emblematical of the sword or the dagger; the letter 'M'
stands for _mort_.”
Coconnas sprang forward as though to strangle Rene, but four guards restrained him.
”That will do,” said the Attorney Laguesle, ”the court is sufficiently informed. Take the prisoners to the waiting-room.”
”But,” exclaimed Coconnas, ”it is impossible to hear one's self accused of such things without protesting.”
”Protest, monsieur, no one will hinder you. Guards, did you hear?”
The guards seized the two prisoners and led them out, La Mole by one door, Coconnas by another.
Then the attorney signed to the man whom Coconnas had perceived in the shadow, and said to him:
”Do not go away, my good fellow, you shall have work this evening.”
”Which shall I begin with, monsieur?” asked the man, respectfully holding his cap in his hand.
”With that one,” said the president, pointing to La Mole, who could still be seen disappearing in the distance between the two guards. Then approaching Rene, who stood trembling, expecting to be led back to the cell in which he had been confined:
”You have spoken well, monsieur,” said he to him, ”you need not worry.
Both the King and the queen shall know that it is to you they are indebted for the truth of this affair.”
But instead of giving him strength, this promise seemed to terrify Rene, whose only answer was a deep sigh.
CHAPTER LVIII.
THE TORTURE OF THE BOOT.
It was only when he had been led away to his new cell and the door was locked on him that Coconnas, left alone, and no longer sustained by the discussion with the judges and his anger at Rene, fell into a train of mournful reflections.
”It seems to me,” thought he, ”that matters are turning against us, and that it is about time to go to the chapel. I suspect we are to be condemned to death. It looks so. I especially fear being condemned to death by sentences p.r.o.nounced behind closed doors, in a fortified castle, 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 s.h.i.+vered; 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.