Armand, sickened with horror, could not bear more than a few minutes of this monstrous spectacle.

The same fate might even now be awaiting Jeanne.
Among the next batch of victims to this sacrilegious butchery he might suddenly spy his beloved with her pale face and cheeks stained with her tears.
He fled from the great chamber, keeping just a sufficiency of presence of mind to join a knot of idlers who were drifting leisurely towards the corridors.

He followed in their wake and soon found himself in the long Galerie des Prisonniers, along the flagstones of which two days ago de Batz had followed his guide towards the lodgings of Heron.
On his left now were the arcades shut off from the courtyard beyond by heavy iron gates.

Through the ironwork Armand caught sight of a number of women walking or sitting in the courtyard.

He heard a man next to him explaining to his friend that these were the female prisoners who would be brought to trial that day, and he felt that his heart must burst at the thought that mayhap Jeanne would be among them.
He elbowed his way cautiously to the front rank.