sleep! A simple idea born in the brain of a
fiend. Heron had spoken of Chauvelin as the originator of the devilry;
a man weakened deliberately day by day by insufficient food, and the
horrible process of denying him rest. It seemed inconceivable that
human, sentient beings should have thought of such a thing. Perspiration
stood up in beads on Sir Andrew's brow when he thought of his friend,
brought down by want of sleep to--what? His physique was splendidly
powerful, but could it stand against such racking torment for long? And
the clear, the alert mind, the scheming brain, the reckless daring--how
soon would these become enfeebled by the slow, steady torture of an
utter want of rest?

Ffoulkes had to smother a cry of horror, which surely must have drawn
the attention of that fiend on himself had he not been so engrossed in
the enjoyment of his own devilry. As it is, he ran out of the stuffy
eating-house, for he felt as if its fetid air must choke him.

For an hour after that he wandered about the streets, not daring to face
Marguerite, lest his eyes betrayed some of the horror which was shaking
his very soul.

That was twenty-four hours ago. To-day he had learnt little else. It was
generally known that the Englishman was in the Conciergerie prison, that
he was being closely watched, and that his trial would come on within
the next few days; but no one seemed to know exactly when. The public
was getting restive, demanding that trial and execution to which every
one seemed to look forward as to a holiday. In the meanwhile the escape
of the Dauphin had been kept from the knowledge of the public; Heron and
his gang, fearing for their lives, had still hopes of extracting from
the Englishman the secret of the lad's hiding-place, and the means they
employed for arriving at this end was worthy of Lucifer and his host of
devils in hell.

From other fragments of conversation which Sir Andrew Ffoulkes had
gleaned that same evening, it seemed to him that in order to hide their
defalcations Heron and the four commissaries in charge of little Capet
had substituted a deaf and dumb child for the escaped little prisoner.
This miserable small wreck of humanity was reputed to be sick and kept
in a darkened room, in bed, and was in that condition exhibited to any
member of the Convention who had the right to see him. A partition had
been very hastily erected in the inner room once occupied by the Simons,
and the child was kept behind