So it was that the sole subject of his absorption at that moment was the fate in store for the comrade who was taken from him. Thereupon Cauvignac's last request came to his mind; he fell upon his knees and prayed. In a few moments he rose, feeling comforted and strong, and awaiting calmly the arrival of the succor promised by Madame de Cambes, or her own presence. Meanwhile Cauvignac followed the jailer through the dark corridor without a word, and reflecting as deeply as his nature allowed him to do. At the end of the corridor, the jailer closed the door with the least possible noise, and after listening for a moment to certain ill-defined sounds which came up from the lower floors, turned sharply to Cauvignac, and said: "Come! my gentleman, off we go." "I am ready," rejoined Cauvignac, majestically. "Don't speak so loud," said the jailer, "and walk faster;" and he started down a stairway leading to the underground dungeons. "Oho!" said Cauvignac to himself, "do they propose to cut my throat in some dark corner, or consign me to a dungeon? I have heard it said that they sometimes content themselves with exhibiting the four limbs on a public square, as Cæsar Borgia did with Ramiro d'Orco. This jailer is all alone, and his keys are at his belt. The keys must open some door or other. He is short, I am tall; he is weak, I am strong; he is in front, I am behind; I can very soon choke the life out of him if I choose. Do I choose?" Cauvignac, having decided that he did choose, had already extended his muscular hands to put his plan in execution, when the jailer suddenly turned about in a great fright. "Hush!" said he, "do you hear nothing?" "Upon my word," said Cauvignac, still speaking to himself, "there is something decidedly mysterious in all this; and so much caution ought to alarm me greatly, if it doesn't reassure me." He stopped abruptly, and demanded:-- "Whither are you taking me?" "Don't you see?" said the jailer; "into the vaults." "Deuce take me!" said Cauvignac: "do they propose to bury me alive?" The jailer shrugged his shoulders, and led the way through a labyrinth of winding corridors, until they came to a low arched door, on which the moisture stood in great drops; from the other side came a strange roaring sound. The jailer opened the door. "The river!" cried Cauvignac, starting back in dismay-as his eyes fell upon a swiftly flowing stream as black and forbidding as Acheron. "Yes, the river; do you know how to swim?" "Yes--no--that is to say--Why the devil do you ask me that?" "Because if you can't swim, we shall have to wait for a boat that is stationed over yonder, and that means a loss of quarter of an hour, to say nothing of the danger that some one may hear the signal I shall have to give, and so discover us." "Discover us!" cried Cauvignac. "In God's name, my dear fellow, are we escaping?" "_Pardieu!_ of course we are." "Where are we going?" "Where you please." "I am free, then?"