The bravest felt a shiver in the roots of their hair.
Roland went from tomb to tomb, sounding each with the butt of the pistol he held in his hand.

Silence everywhere.

They crossed the vault, reached the second gate, and entered the chapel.

The same silence, the same solitude; all was deserted, as it seemed, for years.

Roland went straight to the choir; there lay the blood on the stones; no one had taken the trouble to efface it.