jailer, his wife, and the assistants, were alike alarmed, and not
one of them ventured to throw the least light upon this mysterious
affair.

"And why should you persist," said Tremerello, "in wishing to know,
when nothing good is to be heard? I have told you too much--too
much already."

"Then what is the use of trying to hide it? I know it too well. He
is condemned to death."

"Who? . . . he . . . Doctor Foresti?"

Tremerello hesitated, but the love of gossip was not the least of
his virtues.

"Don't say, then," he resumed, "that I am a babbler; I never wished
to say a word about these matters; so, remember, it is you who
compel me."

"Yes, yes, I do compel you; but courage! tell me every thing you
know respecting the poor Doctor?"

"Ah, Sir! they have made him cross the Bridge of Sighs! he lies in
the dungeons of the condemned; sentence of death has been announced
to him and two others."

"And will it be executed? When? Oh, unhappy man! and what are the
others' names?"