The openings high up in the wall, through which glimmered a pale daylight, became rarer, until at length it was as dark as the tomb.

The new arrival was received by the gaoler, a man with bristly grey hair, a prominent forehead, and pronounced features which incessant ill-humour had twisted into a lasting grimace.

Who would not be ill-humoured indeed, were he forced to spend a blameless life in a dungeon among thieves and murderers and even--worst of all--among those who had been foolishly led astray?
Directly he saw the tottering, shadowy figure of the prisoner come round the pillar, he knew the blow had fallen.

Midnight had struck for the poor fellow.

Annoyed that such people should let themselves be so stupidly taken by surprise, he had continually snubbed him harshly.
To-day he accompanied him to his cell in silence, and when opening it avoided rattling the keys.