He did not know how long he had slept when he was awoke by the sound of a small bell, which seemed to be in his room, although he could see neither bell nor ringer; it is true that the room was very dark, even by day, and doubly so at that hour. The bell, however, continued to sound distinctly, but with caution, as though it were afraid of being heard. Gaston thought the sound seemed to come from the chimney.
He rose, and approaching it gently, became convinced that he was right.
Presently he heard blows struck—under the floor on which he stepped—at regular intervals, with some blunt instrument.
It was evident that these were signals among the prisoners.
Gaston went to the window to raise the curtain of green serge which intercepted the rays of the moon, and in doing so he perceived an object hanging at the end of a string and swinging before the bars.
"Good," said he; "it appears that I shall have occupation, but each one in turn; regularity above all things; let us see what the bell wants, that was the first."
Gaston returned to the chimney, extended his hand, and soon felt a string, at the end of which a bell was hanging, he pulled, but it resisted.
"Good," said a voice, which came down the chimney, "you are there?"
"Yes," said Gaston; "what do you want?"
"Parbleu, I want to talk."