His fellow prisoner was already astir; and without moving, Tournay lay and watched him at his toilet. He was most particular in this regard. Despite the diminutive ewer and hand basin, his ablutions were the occasion of a great amount of energetic scrubbing and rubbing, accompanied by a gentle puffing as if he were enjoying the luxury of a refreshing bath. After washing, he wiped his face and hands carefully on a napkin correspondingly small. He proceeded with the rest of his toilet in the same thorough manner, as leisurely as if he had been in the most luxurious dressing-room. A wound in his neck, that was not entirely healed, gave him some trouble; but he dressed it carefully, and finally hid it entirely from sight by a clean white neckerchief which he took from a little packet in a corner of the room near the head of his bed. Having adjusted the neckcloth to his satisfaction, he put on a well-brushed coat, and, sitting carelessly upon the edge of the table,--the room contained no chair,--he began to polish his nails with a little set of manicure articles which were also drawn forth from his small treasury of personal effects. [Illustration: ADJUSTED THE NECKCLOTH TO HIS SATISFACTION] The light from the slit of a window above his head fell on his face. It was thin and haggard, like that of a man who had undergone a severe illness, but, despite this fact, it was an attractive face, and the longer Tournay looked at it, the more it seemed to be familiar to him, recalling to his mind some one he had once known. Suddenly the colonel sprung to his feet. "St. Hilaire!" he exclaimed aloud, answering his own mental inquiry. St. Hilaire rose from his seat on the table and saluted Tournay graciously. "I am what is left of St. Hilaire," he replied lightly. "And you are--For the life of me I cannot recall your name at the moment. Though I am fully aware that I have seen you more than once before this." "My name is Robert Tournay." "Of course. I should have remembered it. You must pardon my poor memory." Then, looking at him closely, he continued: "You wear the uniform of a colonel. You have won distinction, and yet I see you here in prison." "It matters not how loyal a soldier or citizen one may be if one incurs the enmity or suspicion of Robespierre," was the answer. "What you say is true, Colonel Tournay," said St. Hilaire. "Do you also owe your arrest to him?" asked the colonel. "No," replied St. Hilaire, resuming his former seat. "I became involved in a slight dispute with some of the gendarmerie about a certain question of--of etiquette. The altercation became somewhat spirited. They lost their tempers. I nearly lost my life. When I regained consciousness I discovered what remained of myself here, and I am recovering as fast as could be expected, in view of the rather limited amount of fresh air and sunlight in my chamber."