The marquis had his back towards me, the sentry was gazing into vacancy; so that baffled in my attempt to learn anything from the looks of the other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears.
The rain dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; but mingled with these melancholy sounds--which gained force, as such things always do, from the circumstances in which we were placed and our own silence--I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices and music and laughter.

And that, I know not why, brought M.de Guise again to my mind.
The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk in the inn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all its details.
I started when M.de Rambouillet coughed.

I shivered when Rosny shifted his feet.

The silence grew oppressive.

Only the stolid men in grey seemed unmoved, unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it was their nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewn with scraps of mortar and ends of tiles.
The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly.