"Then he began his prayer again: 'In the beginning thou wert the Silence! Æon eternal! Source of Æons!...' Marceline and I were shaking the hands of Theophrastus, and laughing hysterically. In all conscience, the operation had been severe; but now that it was successful we congratulated Theophrastus warmly. We congratulated him on having escaped from his terrible plight at the cost of a bottle of hair-dye. It was not much to pay for _the death of Cartouche_. "Then we bade him get up and come with us. We were in a hurry to get out of the house in Huchette Street. It seemed to us as if we had been in it a good deal more than two hundred years. "'Come along, dear! Come along!' said Marceline. "'Speak louder,' said Theophrastus, 'I don't know what's the matter with my ears. I seem to be very deaf; and then I can't move.' "'You must be a little dazed, dear,' said Marceline. 'And considering the time you've been stretched on this camp-bed without stirring, it isn't to be wondered at. But make an effort and come along.' "'Speak louder, I tell you!' said Theophrastus impatiently. 'I can move my arms, but I can't move my legs. I want to move them, but they don't stir; and then there's a pricking in my feet.' "'It's pins and needles, dear. Bend your toes back quickly. I want to get home. We've had nothing to eat since this morning, and I'm dreadfully hungry,' said Marceline. "'I don't know whether I've got any toes,' said Theophrastus sadly. "'Come on. It's time we were going,' said I. "'Undoubtedly; but you'll have to carry me, for my legs are in such a state...' "M. de la Nox uttered a deep groan. He had turned back the socks of Theophrastus and seen his ankles. They were swollen and scarred and bleeding. In half a minute we had slit up the legs of his trousers and pants with a pair of scissors. What a dreadful sight met our eyes! _The legs of Theophrastus were the legs of a man who has suffered the torture of the Boot!_ "M. de la Nox groaned again, and with his eyes full of tears, he said: 'Incredible! incredible! Who could have believed that pain would be so _effective_ at the end of two hundred years?' "'This phenomenon is analogous to the stigmata of the Saints,' I said, suddenly realising its scientifically psychic significance. "But Marceline burst into tears and flung herself upon the unhappy Theophrastus. "I shook my fist in the face of Destiny, and hurried out to fetch a cab. "When I returned, Marceline was still weeping; Theophrastus was still examining his legs with extreme curiosity and inquiring how it was that he could not move them, and how they came to be in this extraordinary condition. "M. Eliphas de Saint-Elme de Taillebourg de la Nox did not answer; he was kneeling, with his face buried in his hands, sobbing in utter despair.