Sounds that he was not afraid of , for he divined their meaning,

then began to be audible. Several doors were opened in

succession, and finally his own. A gaoler, with a list in his hand,

looked in, merely saying, “Follow me, Evremonde!” and he

followed him into a large dark room, at a distance. It was a dark

winter day, and what with the shadows within, and what with the

shadows without, he could but dimly discern the others who were

brought there to have their arms bound. Some were standing;

some seated. Some were lamenting, and in restless motion; but,

these were few. The great majority were silent and still, looking

fixedly at the ground.

As he stood by the wall in a dim corner, while some of the fiftytwo

were brought in after him, one man stopped in passing, to

embrace him, as having a knowledge of him. It thrilled him with a

great dread of discovery; but the man went on. A very few

moments after that, a young woman, with a slight girlish form, a

sweet spare face in which there was no vestige of colour, and large

widely opened patient eyes, rose from the seat where he had

observed her sitting, and came to speak to him.

“Citizen Evremonde,” she said, touching him with her cold

hand. “I am a poor little seamstress, who was with you in La

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Force.”

He murmured for answer: “True. I