They brought the torches and stuck them into brackets in the wall above me, where they would illumine every line of my face. Roquefort took his place at the foot, whence he could look down into my eyes. Briquet stationed himself beside me and looked at me as one interested in a new experiment. Plainly his heart had been hardened by a hundred such spectacles. And yet, as I stared up at him, I fancied I saw in his eyes a look of encouragement Where had I seen that face before? Somewhere, surely! “Is all ready?” asked Roquefort. The men grunted an assent. He looked at me again, and read something in my eyes I would not have had him see there. “I think we shall yet learn the name of the spy,” he sneered. “I think we shall soon have this scoundrel’s soul bare before us! Turn the wheel, men!” CHAPTER XI ROQUEFORT’S PRICE I HEARD the wheel creak round, and a sudden spasm of pain shot through elbows, shoulders, and hips as the ropes tightened. I set my teeth to stifle back the cry I knew the next turn must wring from me, and glanced up at Roquefort leering down at me. Thank God, I had settled accounts with that other devil! He, at least, was not there to gloat over my agony! This one I must leave to M. le Comte. “Well, M. de Marsan,” he drawled, “are you yet ready to tell me the name of the spy? Think well before you answer. Your present position is not an easy one, perhaps, but it is a bed of roses compared to what it will be when that wheel has been turned twice more.” I bit my lips to keep back the curses that rose to them. “Come, you are obdurate,” said Roquefort after a moment. “Briquet, explain to him the effect of turning the wheel twice more.” “The first turn will dislocate the shoulders,” said Briquet in a tone of professional indifference. “The second turn will dislocate the hips.” The voice!--where had I heard it? I stared up at him! I could have sworn there was white hate in the look he bent upon his master. “And the third turn, Briquet?” urged Roquefort. “The third turn will render the dislocations permanent by tearing away the gristle which binds bone to bone--ball to socket.” I felt my heart grow cold with terror. Had God a hell to fit such devils? Yet other men had borne it--day after day they had borne it and still smiled. Well, I would bear it too! “So you will not speak?” asked Roquefort reading my defiance in my eyes. “As you will. Only, I warn you, you are playing the fool, M. de Marsan,” and he turned to give the signal to the men at the wheel. But the signal was not given. Even as he turned, the outer door was flung back and hurrying feet dashed into the chamber and across it towards us. Every one stared, astounded, to see who this might be that set at naught Roquefort’s orders. Not until they came full within the circle of light from the torches could I see them--and how my heart leaped, for I looked up into Claire’s eyes, and back of her saw Brissac’s anxious face.