expected to become minister. And notwithstanding my learning, my mind, from
misdeed to misdeed I have attained the last degree of infamy. Behold me, in
fine, the jailer of my accomplice. Oh, yes! the prince is without pity.
Better a thousand times for Jacques Ferrand to have placed his head on the
block; better a thousand times the wheel, fire, the molten lead which burns
and sinks into the flesh, than the torments this wretch endures. As I see
him suffer, I begin to be alarmed for my own fate. What will they do with
me--what is reserved for me, the accomplice of Jacques? To be his jailer
will not suffice for the vengeance of the prince. He has not saved me from
the scaffold to let me live. Perhaps an eternal prison awaits me in
Germany. Better that than death. I can only place myself blindly at the
discretion of the prince; it is my sole chance of safety."

At this moment the storm was at its height; a chimney, blown down by the
violence of the wind, fell on the roof and into the court with a noise like
thunder. Jacques Ferrand, suddenly aroused from his state of torpor, moved
on the bed. A hollow groan attracted the attention of Polidori.

"He is awaking from his stupor," said he, approaching him slowly.

"Polidori," murmured Jacques Ferrand, still stretched on the bed, and with
his eyes closed. "Polidori, what noise was that?"

"A chimney has fallen down," answered Polidori, in a low tone; "a frightful
hurricane shakes the house to its foundations. The night is horrible,
horrible!"

The notary did not hear, and half turning his head, whispered, "Polidori,
are you there?"