The governor sadly shook his head; but Gabriel saw not the motion, for he was already rushing down the slippery and dilapidated steps which led to the lowest depths of the gloomy prison. Monsieur de Sazerac took the torch from the hands of the attendant, whom he dismissed with a motion, of his hand, and followed Gabriel, with his handkerchief over his mouth. At every step the air grew fouler and more suffocating. When they reached the foot of the staircase they were fairly gasping for breath, and the feeling was instinctive that nothing could live more than a few moments in that atmosphere, save the unclean creatures they were crushing beneath their feet. But Gabriel never thought of that. He took from the governor's trembling hands the rusty key that he handed him, and opening the heavy, worm-eaten door, rushed headlong into the dungeon. By the light of the torch a form could be distinguished in a corner stretched upon a heap of foul straw. Gabriel threw himself upon the body, drew it from the corner, and tried to restore it to life, crying,-- "Father, father!" Monsieur de Sazerac fairly shook with horror at that cry. The arms and the head of the old man fell back inert and lifeless under Gabriel's caressing hands. CHAPTER XXXI THE COMTE DE MONTGOMMERY Gabriel, still kneeling beside the lifeless mass, raised his pale, bewildered countenance, and cast a glance of ominous tranquillity around him. He seemed to be questioning himself and pondering deeply; and his almost unnatural calm touched and alarmed Monsieur de Sazerac more than all the outcry and sobbing in the world would have done. Suddenly, as if the idea that life might not be extinct had just occurred to him, he hurriedly placed his hand over the heart of the corpse. For a moment or two he felt and listened eagerly. "Nothing!" he then said in a firm but gentle voice, which was terrible for those very qualities; "nothing!--the heart no longer beats, but the flesh is still warm." "What a marvellously strong constitution!" the governor muttered; "he might have lived for a long time to come." All this time the eyes had remained open. Gabriel leaned over and closed them with reverent touch. Then he imprinted a respectful and loving kiss, the first and the last, upon the poor wasted lids, which had been wet with so many bitter tears. "Monsieur," observed Monsieur de Sazerac, hoping to divert Gabriel from his terrifying contemplation of the inert body before him, "if the deceased was dear to you--" "Dear to me, Monsieur!" Gabriel interrupted; "why, yes,--he was my father." "Very well, Monsieur, if you desire to pay the last sad honors to his memory, I am directed to allow you to remove the body from this place."