"Just so. One night, here in my cell, I saw a phantom kneeling and praying. I cried out and it disappeared. It was she asking my forgiveness." "Do you think, then, that when death came upon her she relented?" "I trust so, for her soul's sake." "But in that case they should have set you free." "She may have requested it, but I am of so little importance that I was probably forgotten in the excitement of that great catastrophe." "And so you would likewise forgive her, as you are about to die?" "Lift me up, young man, that I may pray for both of them." And the dying man, resting in Jacques Aubry's arms, coupled the names of his protector and persecutress in the same prayer: the man who had remembered him in his affection and the woman who had never forgotten him in her hatred,--the constable and the regent. The prisoner was right. Jacques Aubry's eyes began to become accustomed to the darkness, and he could make out the dying man's features. He was a handsome old man, much emaciated by suffering, with a white beard and a bald head,--such a head as Domenichino dreamed of when painting his Confession of Saint-Jerome. When his prayer was finished, he heaved a deep sigh, and fell back upon the bed; he had swooned. Jacques thought that he was dead. He ran to the water-jug, however, poured some water in the hollow of his hand, and shook it over his face. The dying man returned to life once more. "You did well to revive me, young man," said he, "and here is your reward." "What is that?" "A dagger." "A dagger! how did it come into your hands?" "Wait one moment. One day, when the turnkey brought my bread and water, he put the lamp upon the stool which happened to be standing near the wall. In the wall at that point was a protruding stone, and I saw some letters cut with a knife upon it. I hadn't time to read them. But I dug up some earth with my hands, moistened it so as to make a sort of paste, and took an impression of the letters, which formed the word _Ultor_. "What was the significance of that word, which means avenger? I returned to the stone. I tried to shake it. It moved like a tooth in its socket. By dint of patience and persistent efforts I succeeded in removing it from the wall. I immediately plunged my hand into the hole, and found this dagger. "Thereupon the longing for liberty, which I had almost lost, returned to me in full force; I resolved to dig a passage-way from this to some dungeon near at hand with the dagger, and there concoct some plan of escape with its occupant. Besides, even if it all ended in failure, the digging and cutting was something to occupy my time; and when you have spent twenty years in a dungeon as I have, young man, you will realize what a formidable enemy time is." Aubry shuddered from head to foot. "Did you ever put your plan in execution?" he inquired.