And with this thought came the first sharp sting of remorse. But I had burned my ships. I could do nothing. Whether I stood fast to my evil compact with Achon or held back, the result would be the same. Those whom, in my madness, I had betrayed were compassed on all sides. For them there was no escape. And there was none for me. My path was before me; onward, where my revenge held out a Tantalus’ cup, whose sweetness would never touch my lips. I put aside the thoughts that came crowding upon me in that stifling air, and, seizing the lantern, went back alone, whence we had come, two together. As I shut the first door I stopped to listen if any sound could be heard from the dungeon, but all was silent. Slowly I went upward, closing the doors after me, and at last reached the landing. Fortunately there was no one there. I replaced the lantern in its niche, locked the door carefully, and, slipping the key in my pocket, made my way back to the Prince’s apartments. De Bresy was disposed of for a time. Luck and his own folly had favored me in that, but there still remained Comminges to be dealt with. I walked along the corridor, whistling the “Rappel d’Aunis,” and found the lieutenant on his eternal guard. The man never seemed to eat or sleep. He looked at me from under his bushy eyebrows as I came up, and asked, in his gruff brusque way: “Where is Monsieur de Bresy?” “He is busily engaged at present.” “Engaged! Monsieur has done his rounds.” “Probably he has business in connection with the letter you gave him, monsieur.” And then, to avoid further inquiry, I began questioning him myself. “Can you tell me if the Prince is stirring?” He glanced toward the door, which was closed on account of the chillness of the day, and shrugged his shoulders; but I went on, as if time was no object to me. “Marcilly has not gone, has he? He said he might have to go early.” “Oh! He is here still.” “You are sure?” “As I am here. There is only one way out--through this door--and I have been here since you came.” “You have long hours.” “There is an old proverb, monsieur, ‘Fast bind, safe find,’” and he again shot a keen glance at me. Clearly it seemed that Comminges was on the alert. But too much caution often overreaches itself, and I took heart from the thought, as I rubbed my hands together, saying, with a little shiver: “Ugh! It’s cold here; and the fire in the room, there, is crackling cheerily.” Comminges said nothing, but as I slipped into the room he followed me; not so fast, however, but that I was able to exchange a nod with Vaux, who had to turn aside to hide the blaze of eager curiosity in his eyes. From within the inner room there came a low murmur of voices. “So he is awake,” I said, and Vaux answered: “Yes. He has been awake for the last quarter of an hour.” “Then I shall go in,” and I tapped at the door. A weak voice replied, “Enter!” and as I made a movement forward I saw Comminges at my heels.