Then, looking out, I can just discern, deep in the shadow of the building opposite, the figure of a man.
He raises his arm; something white flies over my head and falls on the floor.

Dropping hurriedly from the grating, I pick up the message-bearing missile--a pebble to which is tied a piece of paper.

I can see that the paper contains writing, and climbing a second time up to the grating, I make out by the light of the moonbeams the words: "_If you are condemned, ask for a priest._" My first feeling was one of bitter disappointment.

Why should I ask for a priest?
I was not a Roman Catholic; I did not want to confess.

If the author of the missive was Carera--and who else could it be ?--why had he given himself so much trouble to make so unpleasantly suggestive a recommendation?
A priest, forsooth! A file and a cord would be much more to the purpose....