"We are hideously crowded now, and there's no place to be longer reserved for solitary confinement. So by to-morrow you may have a lodger, my friend!" Jean dared not exhibit the pleasure this announcement caused him. To see and speak to a human being other than these almost inhuman monstrosities, the turnkeys, was almost too good to be true! "Oh, well! I'll not object, only do not crowd in too many, I beg!" he replied with greatest indifference. But his heart sang in a very jubilee of thanksgiving. Therefore was he waiting in breathless expectancy, for either one of two events,--a companion in his solitude, or a call to himself face the tribunal of justice and its almost certain result. Which would it be? He waited till noon in eager suspense, but the corridor remained silent. Jean began to be very impatient. He longed for anything to break the monotony of this waiting, even were it to mean his own call to judgment. At last, about two o'clock, voices were heard along the corridor, tramping footfalls, the hoarse growl of the turnkeys, and finally the unbolting of the cell-door. But his joy was beyond all words when the two turnkeys flung into the room a stranger, and closed the door with a bang and the cheerful remark: "There you are! Keep each other company till you go to make your call on Mistress Guillotine!" The stranger fell heavily on the bed, as though in a stupor, and so remained for many minutes. While in this state, Jean had time to look him over and judge what manner of companion he had been given. The man was clothed in the peasant costume, evidently of Picardy. His face was covered with a five days' growth of beard, and his expression indicated no large amount of wits. As he lay on the mattress, he seemed overcome by a very paroxysm of terror. When he appeared to be somewhat recovered, Jean broke the conversational ice: "And what may be _your_ crime against the Republic, Citizen Friend?" The peasant started at the sound of his voice, sat up and gave the boy a scrutinising look. Then his face underwent the strangest transformation Jean had ever seen. The stupid expression vanished, the eyes sparkled brilliantly, and a smile played about the bearded mouth. In that instant Jean recognised him. "The Baron de Batz!" he exclaimed, springing forward. "Hush!" whispered the Baron, as he wrung the boy's hand. "This is luck indeed! I knew that you had been sent here, but I thought regretfully, that you had long since perished!" Jean explained the supposed reason that he had been so far spared. "But tell me, I beg, how you come to be here!" he ended.