unknown reservoirs."

"Monsieur," said the warder in an undertone to the Governor, coming
close to him as he was escorting Doctor Lebrun as far as the outer gates
of the Conciergerie, "Number 2 in the secret cells says he is ill, and
needs the doctor; he declares he is dying," added the turnkey.

"Indeed," said the Governor.

"His breath rattles in his throat," replied the man.

"It is five o'clock," said the doctor; "I have had no dinner. But, after
all, I am at hand. Come, let us see."

"Number 2, as it happens, is the Spanish priest suspected of being
Jacques Collin," said Monsieur Gault to the doctor, "and one of
the persons suspected of the crime in which that poor young man was
implicated."

"I saw him this morning," replied the doctor. "Monsieur Camusot sent for
me to give evidence as to the state of the rascal's health, and I
may assure you that he is perfectly well, and could make a fortune by
playing the part of Hercules in a troupe of athletes."

"Perhaps he wants to kill himself too," said Monsieur Gault. "Let us
both go down to the cells together, for I ought to go there if only
to transfer him to an upper room. Monsieur Camusot has given orders to
mitigate this anonymous gentleman's confinement."

Jacques Collin, known as _Trompe-la-Mort_ in the world of the hulks,
who must henceforth be called only by his real name, had gone through
terrible distress of mind since, after hearing Camusot's order, he had
been taken back to the underground cell--an anguish such as he had never
before known in the course of a life diversified by many crimes, by
three escapes, and two sentences at the Assizes. And is there not
something monstrously fine in the dog-like attachment shown to the man
he had made his friend by this wretch in whom were concentrated all the
life, the powers, the spirit, and the passions of the hulks, who was, so
to speak, their highest expression?

Wicked, infamous, and in so many ways horrible, this absolute worship of
his idol makes him so truly interesting that this Study, long as it
is already, would seem incomplete and cut short if the close of this
criminal career did not come as a sequel to Lucien de Rubempre's end.
The little spaniel being dead, we want to know whether his terrible
playfellow the lion will live on.

In real life, in society, every event is so inevitably linked to other
events, that one cannot occur without the rest. The water of the great
river forms a sort of flu