He was about to ask some jocular question of the turnkey when he saw the latter put his finger to his lips and roll his eyes significantly. Behind the jailer Coconnas heard sounds and perceived shadows.
Suddenly in the midst of the darkness he distinguished two helmets, on which the smoking candle threw a yellow light.
"Oh!" said he in a low voice, "what is this sinister procession? What is going to happen?"
The jailer replied by a sigh which greatly resembled a groan.
"By Heaven!" murmured Coconnas; "what a wretched existence! always on the ragged edge; never on firm land; either we paddle in a hundred feet of water or we hover above the clouds; never a happy medium. Well, where are we going?"
"Follow the halberdiers, monsieur," repeated the same voice.
He had to obey. Coconnas left his room, and perceived the dark man whose voice had been so disagreeable. He was a clerk, small and hunchbacked, who no doubt had put on the gown in order to hide his bandy legs, as well as his back. He slowly descended the winding stairs. At the first landing the guards paused.
"That is a good deal to go down," murmured Coconnas, "but not enough."
The door opened. The prisoner had the eye of a lynx and the scent of a bloodhound. He scented the judges and saw in the shadow the silhouette of a man with bare arms; the latter sight made the perspiration mount to his brow. Nevertheless, he assumed his most smiling manner, and entered the room with his head tipped to one side, and his hand on his hip, after the most approved manner of the times.
A curtain was raised, and Coconnas perceived the judges and the clerks.