far-away, dreamy expression, but they were now full of terror. His
face would have been handsome had not the look of terror spoiled it.
His fettered hands lay on his knees, which were closely pressed
together, his fingers were intertwined, his head sunken so that his
chin was driven into his chest: he looked an utterly broken man. He
drew in his legs so that the policemen might be more comfortable. One
of them glanced at him sideways, and wondered how this gentle creature
could have committed such a crime.

They drove alongside the wall of the large building, the gate of which
was now opened. In the courtyard the poor sinner was taken out of the
carriage and led through a second gate into an inner courtyard where
his handcuffs were removed. He was led through vaulted corridors in
which here and there small doors with barred windows might be seen.
The dark passage had many windings, and was lighted by an occasional
lamp. The air was cold and damp. The openings high up in the wall,
through which glimmered a pale daylight, became rarer, until at length
it was as dark as the tomb. The new arrival was received by the
gaoler, a man with bristly grey hair, a prominent forehead, and
pronounced features which incessant ill-humour had twisted into a
lasting grimace. Who would not be ill-humoured indeed, were he forced
to spend a blameless life in a dungeon among thieves and murderers and
even--worst of all--among those who had been foolishly led astray?
Directly he saw the tottering, shadowy figure of the prisoner come
round the pillar, he knew the blow had fallen. Midnight had struck for
the poor fellow. Annoyed that such people should let themselves be so
stupidly taken by surprise, he had continually snubbed him harshly.
To-day he accompanied him to his cell in silence, and when opening it
avoided rattling the keys. But he could not help looking through the
spy-hole to see what the poor fellow would do. What he saw was the