an eye over the brat every day
myself."

He went out again, slamming the door behind him. His heavy footsteps
were heard treading the flagstones of the corridor, and gradually dying
away in the distance. Armand had paid no heed either to his entrance or
to his exit. He was only conscious of an intense weariness, and would at
this moment gladly have laid his head on the scaffold if on it he could
find rest.

A white-faced clock on the wall ticked off the seconds one by one. From
the street below came the muffled sounds of wheeled traffic on the soft
mud of the road; it was raining more heavily now, and from time to time
a gust of wind rattled the small windows in their dilapidated frames, or
hurled a shower of heavy drops against the panes.

The heat from the stove had made Armand drowsy; his head fell forward
on his chest. Chauvelin, with his hands held behind his back, paced
ceaselessly up and down the narrow room.

Suddenly Armand started--wide awake now. Hurried footsteps on the
flagstones outside, a hoarse shout, a banging of heavy doors, and the
next moment Heron stood once more on the threshold of the room. Armand,
with wide-opened eyes, gazed on him in wonder. The whole appearance of
the man had changed. He looked ten years older, with lank, dishevelled
hair hanging matted over a moist forehead, the cheeks ashen-white, the
full lips bloodless and hanging, flabby and parted, displaying both rows
of yellow teeth that shook against each other. The whole figure looked
bowed, as if shrunk within itself.

Chauvelin had paused in his restless walk, He gazed on his colleague, a
frown of puzzlement on his pale, set face.

"Capet!" he exclaimed, as soon as he had taken in every detail of
Heron's altered appearance, and seen the look of wild terror that
literally distorted his face.

Heron could not speak; his teeth were chattering in his mouth, and his
tongue seemed paralysed. Chauvelin went up to him. He was several inches
shorter than his colleague, but at this moment he seemed to be towering
over him like an avenging spirit. He placed a firm hand on the other's
bowed shoulders.

"Capet has gone--is that it?" he queried peremptorily.

The look of terror increased in Heron's eyes, giving its mute reply.

"How? When?"

But for the moment the man was speechless. An almost maniacal fear
seemed to hold him in its grip. With an impatient oath Chauvelin turned
away from him.

"Brandy!" he said curtly, speaking t