"It was the truth; one could not doubt it to see the anguish on the contorted face of Theophrastus. It was Cartouche who was tortured and Theophrastus who suffered. That proved the _identity_ of the soul; _but it also proved that the pain had not ceased to be effective after two hundred years_. That was what dismayed M. de la Nox. It was the first time that a case of this kind had come under his observation during his operations with the Astral Scalpel. The pain of Cartouche found voice through two centuries; this cry of anguish which had not issued from his stubborn lips, _had waited two hundred years to burst from the lungs of Theophrastus Longuet_! "M. Eliphas de la Nox buried his head, his luminous head, in his hands and prayed ardently: 'In the beginning you were the Silence! Æon eternal! Source of Æons!...' "At the end of the prayer he felt Theophrastus' pulse and listened carefully to the beating of his heart. Then he said: "'M. Longuet is plainly a man of strong constitution, and thoroughly sound. In fact, from that point of view there's scarcely anything to fear. _He will bury Cartouche._ I think we ought to go through with the operation.' "I said that I was of his opinion. Marceline hesitated a little, and then bade him continue. "'And now what are they doing, Cartouche?' said M. de la Nox. "'They keep asking me those useless questions; but I can't answer,' said Theophrastus impatiently. 'And I keep asking myself what that man in the right-hand corner of the cell is doing. He has his back turned to me; and I can hear a _sound of clinking iron_... The executioner is at the moment taking it easily. He's leaning against the wall and yawning... There's a lamp on the table which lights up two men who keep on writing and writing. What they're writing I can't conceive, for I haven't said anything--I can't. It's the man in the corner that puzzles me. There's a red light on the wall as if he were between me and a brazier. I wonder what those irons are he's messing about with.' "'It must be the red-hot irons. They used them,' said M. de la Nox; and he shivered. "We were silent; and presently there came a series of dreadful, ear-splitting yells from Theophrastus. M. de la Nox turned a very pale and troubled face to us, and declared that he had never come across, or even suspected that one could come across, pain so _effective_. He had no doubt that it must be owing to the fact that he had never before operated on souls reincarnate after an interval of less than five hundred years; that even those were very rare; and the bulk of his clientele was composed of souls at least two thousand years old. I fancied that he was somewhat out of his depth; and it surprised me beyond words. "Again Theophrastus yelled; then suddenly Marceline cried: "'Look! Look, his hair!' "The most surprising sight met our eyes: _the hair of Theophrastus was turning white_!