'Well,' cried the other, uneasily flinging the end of his cloak over his

shoulder with an oath, 'let them do their worst!'

'Truly I think they will,' murmured John Baptist to himself, as he bent

his head to put his knife in his sash.

Nothing more was said on either side, though they both began walking

to and fro, and necessarily crossed at every turn. Monsieur Rigaud

sometimes stopped, as if he were going to put his case in a new light,

or make some irate remonstrance; but Signor Cavalletto continuing to

go slowly to and fro at a grotesque kind of jog-trot pace with his eyes

turned downward, nothing came of these inclinings.

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By-and-by the noise of the key in the lock arrested them both. The sound

of voices succeeded, and the tread of feet. The door clashed, the voices

and the feet came on, and the prison-keeper slowly ascended the stairs,

followed by a guard of soldiers.

'Now, Monsieur Rigaud,' said he, pausing for a moment at the grate, with

his keys in his hands, 'have the goodness to come out.'

'I am to depart in state, I see?' 'Why, unless you did,' returned the

jailer, 'you might depart in so many pieces that it would be difficult

to get you together again. There's a crowd, Monsieur Rigaud, and it

doesn't love you.' He passed on out of sight, and unlocked and unbarred a low door in the

corner of the chamber. 'Now,' said he, as he opened it and appeared

within, 'come out.'

There is no sort of whiteness in all the hues under the sun at all like

the whiteness of Monsieur Rigaud's face as it was then. Neither is there

any expression of the human countenance at all like that expression in

every little line of which the frightened heart is seen to beat. Both

are conventionally compared with death; but the difference is the whole

deep gulf between the struggle done, and the fight at its most desperate

extremity.

He lighted another of his paper cigars at his companion's; put it

tightly between his teeth; covered his head with a soft slouched hat;

threw the end of his cloak over his shoulder again; and walked out into

the side gallery on which the door opened, without taking any further

notice of Signor Cavalletto. As to that little man himself, his whole

attention had become absorbed in getting near the door and looking out

at it. Precisely as a beast might approach the opened gate of his den

and eye the freedom beyond, he passed those few moments in watching and

peering, until the door was closed upon him.