This was repeated three times, each time with greater earnestness. However, Théophraste never moved. His immobility was deathlike, and his toothless mouth and bloodless lips made the silent onlookers believe that he had followed Cartouche in the shadow of death. His corpselike pallor seemed to them to be already turning green, and his hair, having become suddenly white, gave him the appearance of a very old man. Was he already dead? Was he decomposing already? M. Eliphaste repeated the gestures, and in his lids, intense earnestness appeared like a madman. He blew again on the eyes, and parted the eyelashes, again crying out: “Théophraste Longuet, awake thou! Awake thou, Théophraste Longuet!” Just at the moment when they believed that Théophraste Longuet would never return to life again, a slight tremble shook his frame, and drawing a deep breath, he turned his face toward them. At first he breathed with difficulty, but quickly recovering, he opened his eyes and said: “Cartouche is dead!” M. Eliphaste’s face lit up with emotion. “Let us thank God,” he said, “that the operation has been successful,” and he began his prayer again: “In the beginning thou wast silent! Eon! Source of all ages!...” Mme. Longuet and M. Adolphe threw themselves on Théophraste, while thanking God from the bottom of their hearts. They felt that the death of Cartouche had not been too dearly bought. The operation had certainly been a rough one, but he had only lost his teeth, and his hair had turned white. Mme. Longuet put her arms around her husband, and helped him rise from the couch. “Let us go. We have stopped here too long already,” she said. “Speak louder,” said Théophraste, with strange enunciation. “I have something in my ears. I cannot move, either.” “It is natural that you should be a little benumbed, my dear,” said Mme. Longuet. “You have been stretched on that bed for a long time. But make an effort.” “Speak louder, I tell you. I can move my arms now, but I cannot stir my legs. They won’t move, and my feet pain me very much.” He then put his hand to his mouth and said: “Why, what have you done with my teeth? You put me to sleep to fix my teeth, and you have taken them from me.” It was curious that while he was asleep, even after he had lost his teeth, he spoke distinctly. It was evident that he could not move, and Mme. Longuet removed the clothing to rub his stiff limbs. To her sorrow she found his clothes all torn, and on looking closer saw all the flesh on his limbs lacerated. His legs and feet were boiled. The flesh was torn away in some places, and burned horribly in others. M. Eliphaste, with trembling hands, removed the clothing from his chest, and there they saw, over the heart, two spots of black blood. His biceps bore fresh marks of frightful torture.