e is no need
to hesitate; I go to show you merely what will interest you."

We passed in silence through the corridors, two sentinels attending,
and at last came into a large square room, wherein stood three men with
hands tied over their heads against the wall, their faces twitching with
pain. I drew back in astonishment, for there, standing before them, were
Gabord and another soldier. Doltaire ordered from the room the soldier
with Gabord, and my two sentinels, and motioned me to one of two chairs
set in the middle of the floor.

Presently his face became hard and cruel, and he said to the tortured
prisoners, "You will need to speak the truth, and promptly. I have an
order to do with you what I will, and I will do it without pause. Hear
me. Three nights ago, as Mademoiselle Duvarney was returning from the
house of a friend living near the Intendance, she was set upon by you. A
cloak was thrown over her head, she was carried to a carriage, where two
of you got inside with her. Some gentlemen and myself were coming that
way. We heard the lady's cries, and two gave chase to the carriage,
while one followed the others. By the help of soldier Gabord here you
all were captured. You have hung where you are for two days, and now I
shall have you whipped. When that is done, you shall tell your story.
If you do not speak truth, you shall be whipped again, and then hung.
Ladies shall have safety from rogues like you."

Alixe's danger told in these concise words made me, I am sure, turn
pale; but Doltaire did not see it, he was engaged with the prisoners. As
I thought and wondered, four soldiers were brought in, and the men were
made ready for the lash. In vain they pleaded they would tell their
story at once. Doltaire would not listen; the whipping first, and their
story after. Soon their backs were bared, their faces were turned to
the wall, and, as Gabord with harsh voice counted, the lashes were
mercilessly laid on. There was a horrible fascination in watching
the skin corrugate under the lashes, rippling away in red and purple
blotches, the grooves in the flesh crossing and recrossing, the raw
misery spreading from the hips to the shoulders. Now and again
Doltaire drew out a box and took a pinch of snuff, and once, coolly
and curiously, he walked up to the most stalwart prisoner and felt his
pulse, then to the weakest, whose limbs and body had stiffened as though
dead. "Ninety-seven! Ninety-eight! Ninety-nine!" growled Ga