"There is one thing I do ask," she repeated. "Do not cast him down--let him down gently." A harsh laugh from Le Gros Guillem. "You are a silly child, a fool, who know not what you ask. You will prolong his torture, not shorten it--but you shall have your wish. Be it so." He waved to the jailers. "Go, child, go!" said he to his daughter. "I will stay and see it done," she said. "I will not ask another thing." She stood erect and looked at the old man; her mouth quivered, and her eyes were as though fixed hard in their sockets like stones in a setting. And the sight was one to freeze the blood. The jailers raised Ogier, who offered no resistance, but fixed his eyes strainingly on a spot of light above a man's head in the doorway. He was lifted till his feet were above the well, and then he was let down by ropes passed under his arms, slowly, deliberately. Those holding the torches raised them, and the smoke described cabalistic devices on the roof. The glare was on the sinking man. He went down below his knees, then his waist disappeared. Involuntarily he put forth his arms to arrest his descent, by gripping the well-breast, but recollected that resistance was in vain, and lowered his arms to his sides. Then his breast was hidden, then his shoulders went under. For a moment all visible was the ghastly grey face with the glittering eyes, and then--that also was gone. He uttered no cry, no groan, he went down like a dead man, into profound darkness, into his living tomb. All was still in the dungeon, save for the labouring breath of those who looked on. The jailers lowered till the ropes became slack. Then they knew the poor wretch was on the floor of the vault below. Each man threw down one end of his rope and drew at the other, even as at a funeral the ropes are withdrawn when the dead has been lowered. In the stillness, Guillem laughed--silently--showing all his fangs, and waving his arms in the direction of the _oubliette_ mouth, and extending his lean fingers said-- "_Vade in pace!_" CHAPTER XVII. IN THE RAVEN'S NEST. WHEN Le Gros Guillem was carried back to his room, he said to his wife, "Where is Noémi?" "I believe--that is, I suppose she is going to her Aunt Tarde at La Roque. She said something about it. Something has occurred and she is not herself. I don't know what it is." "I dare say!" laughed the Captain. "Noémi has witnessed this day what has been seen by few girls. She stood it manfully--at the last." "I dare say. I know nothing about it," said his wife. "If she is going to La Roque, then Roger and Amanieu shall accompany her. I have a letter to transmit to Ste. Soure." He sent for writing materials, and wrote in a scrawling hand: "Dear and most valiant friend, Seigneur Jean del' Peyra at Le Peuch Ste. Soure.--Please you to know that your father is let down into oblivion. Dear and well-loved Sir, God have you ever in guard.