There are, indeed, many simpler, more convenient methods of torture. You can inject boiling water, vinegar, or oil into the accused, apply hot pitch, place hot eggs under the armpits, thrust sharp-cornered dice between the skin and flesh, tie lighted candles to the hands so that they can be consumed simultaneously with the wax, or allow water to drip from a great height upon the stomach. This, curiously enough, is said to break down the most stubborn criminals, as will watering the soles of the feet with salted water, and allowing goats to lick the same. However, the ordinary method is the rack. Then the offender is laid on a wooden trestle, cords are bound to his limbs and then steadily tightened with winches. Baron Garnier in his day took great interest in obtaining a well-made rack. It now is put to proper use in "stretching" the two brigands. Happily, these culprits break down after the first of them has undergone a few turns before his limbs are dislocated; and to the provost's satisfaction they howl out sundry details as to how their comrades can be taken. The prisoners are therefore remanded to custody until their statements can be investigated. Woe to them if they have lied! In that event there are promised them much keener tortures to make them weary of life. While Sire Macaire is therefore leading his band after the remaining brigands, Maître Denis conducts the two captives back to prison. Really it is only a few feet from the great hall of state in the _palais_, to the cells under the old donjon. In their confinement the prisoners can hear the revelry of the baron's guests. Through their airholes drifts the jongleur's music. They can almost, at times, catch the swish and rustle of the rich dresses of the noblewomen. Conon is accounted a merciful custodian compared with his uncle, but he does not let offenders forget their sins because of kindness. [Sidenote: Prisoners and Dungeons]