gain some news of this Hubert, in whose house I found myself.
Any mistake would cost me not only my life but the failure of my
mission. Perhaps he did not live alone. Perhaps he was only a
lodger in a Spanish family, and my visit might bring ruin to him
as well as to myself. Seldom in my life have I been more
perplexed. And then, suddenly, something turned my blood cold in
my veins. It was a voice, a whispering voice, in my very ear.
"Mon Dieu!" cried the voice, in a tone of agony. "Oh, mon Dieu!
mon Dieu!" Then there was a dry sob in the darkness, and all was
still once more.

It thrilled me with horror, that terrible voice, but it thrilled
me also with hope, for it was the voice of a Frenchman.

"Who is there?" I asked.

There was a groaning, but no reply.

"Is that you, Monsieur Hubert?"

"Yes, yes," sighed the voice, so low that I could hardly hear it.
"Water, water, for Heaven's sake, water!"

I advanced in the direction of the sound, but only to come in
contact with the wall. Again I heard a groan, but this time
there could be no doubt that it was above my head. I put up my
hands, but they felt only empty air.

"Where are you?" I cried.