While the soldiers turned to obey the order to massacre the vassals upon the stairway of the castle, Nominoë was awaiting death in his cell, whither the forester guards of the Count had taken him. The bailiff of the seigniory, assisted by his registrar, had proceeded to interrogate the prisoner, who was charged with a murderous attempt, followed by wounds, upon the person of the very high, very powerful and very redoubtable seigneur, etc. Nominoë remained silent, declining to answer any of the bailiff's questions. The only words he uttered were to inquire about the condition of Mademoiselle Plouernel. Not considering it fit to impart the information to the prisoner, the officer of justice once more urged him to consider that his refusal to answer the charges against him was equivalent to a confession of guilt on his part, and that the crime, in which he was caught red-handed, was punishable with death. The prisoner was to appear early the next morning at the bar of the seigniorial tribunal, together with his two accomplices, guilty like himself of attempted murder, also followed by serious wounds upon the person of the very high, very powerful and very redoubtable seigneur, etc. The execution of the sentence was immediately to follow the judgment. The three gibbets were to be erected that same night. Nominoë persisted in his silence. Thereupon the bailiff and the registrar took their departure, and he was left alone. "To die!" pondered Nominoë. "I am about to die. Or rather, I am about to be re-born yonder! Oh! I would greet that new life with a shout of joy, were it not for my sorrow at departing from this world at the very moment when there is about to break out the revolt of which my father is the soul, and which, under his direction, might have led to the overthrow of the royal power itself. This is what attaches me to life." Absorbed in his meditations, Nominoë had not noticed that for a considerable space of time the sound of a number of bells, though weakened by the distance, reached him through the air-hole of his cell. Suddenly a tumultuous noise that drew nearer and nearer attracted his attention. With the noise of the tumult was speedily mingled the detonations of musketry fire, frequent and well sustained, and but irregularly answered. Little by little the musketry discharges ceased. The turmoil seemed hushed. A long silence ensued--and, presently, a reddish glint of flames penetrated through the air-hole of the cell, reflected itself upon the opposite wall, and speedily threw the same into a flamboyant glare. It was the war upon the castles that broke out! Peace to the huts, war to the palaces! "The vassals have attacked the feudal manor--they have seized it--they are in the halls! They are now setting it on fire!" cried Nominoë, ecstatic with joy. But immediately struck by an opposite train of thought: "Good God! What will become of Bertha!"