crime. They ought, then, to be
brought face to face, and, possibly, this might bring about an immediate
result. And why not have this meeting take place at once, before Prades
was sent where Dantin was, at Mazas?

M. Ginory, who had uttered this word "Mazas," noticed the expression of
terror which flashed across and suddenly transfigured the young man's
face.

Prades stammered:

"Then--you will hold me? Then--I am not free?"

M. Ginory did not reply. He gave an order that this Prades should be
guarded until the arrival of Dantin from Mazas.

In Mazas, in that walled prison, in the cell which had already made him
ill, Jacques Dantin sat. This man, with the trooper's air, seemed almost
to be in a state of collapse. When the guard came to his cell he drew
himself up and endeavored to collect all his energy; and when the door
was opened and he was called he appeared quite like himself. When he saw
the prison wagon which had brought him to Mazas and now awaited to take
him to the Palais de Justice he instinctively recoiled; then, recovering
himself, he entered the narrow vehicle.

The idea, the sensation that he was so near all this life--yet so
far--that he was going through these streets, filled with carriages,
with men and women who were free, gave him a desperate, a nervous sense
of irritation.

The air which they breathed, he breathed and felt fan his brow--but
through a grating. They arrived at the Palais and Jacques Dantin
recognized the staircases which he had previously mounted, that led to
the Examining Magistrate's room. He entered the narrow room where M.
Ginory awaited him. Dantin saluted the Magistrate with a gesture which,
though courteous, seemed to have a little bravado in it; as a salutation
with a sword before a duel. Then he glanced around, astonished to see,
between two guards, a man whom he did not recognize.

M. Ginory studied them. If he knew this Prades, who also curiously
returned his look, Jacques Dantin was a great comedian, because no
indication, not the slightest involuntary shudder, not the faintest
trace of an expression of having seen him before, crossed his face. Even
M. Ginory's keen eyes could detect nothing. He had asked that Bernardet
be present at the meeting, and the little man's face, become serious,
almost severe, was turned, with eager interrogation in its expression,
toward Dantin. Bernardet also was unable to detect the faintest emotion
which could be construed into an a