st, or from a woman screams of agonised
entreaty. But these were quickly silenced by rough blows from the
butt-ends of muskets, and condemnations--wholesale sentences of
death--were quickly passed amidst the cheers of the spectators and the
howls of derision from infamous jury and judge.

Oh! the mockery of it all--the awful, the hideous ignominy, the blot
of shame that would forever sully the historic name of France. 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. Soon he found himself
beside a sentinel who, with a good-humoured jest, made way for him that
he might watch the aristos. Armand leaned against the grating, and his
every sense was concentrated in that of sight.

At first he could scarcely distinguish one woman from another amongst
the crowd that thronged the courtyard, and the close ironwork hindered
his view considerably. The women looked almost like phantoms in the grey
misty air, gliding slowly along with noiseless tread on the flag-stones.

Presently, however, his eyes, which mayhap were somewhat dim with tears,
became more accustomed to the hazy grey light and the moving figures
that looked so like shadows. He could distinguish isolated groups now,
women and girls sitting together under the colonnaded arcades, some
reading, others busy, with trembling fingers, patching and darning a
poor, torn gown. Then there were others who were actually chatting and
laughing