Cauvignac, having decided that he did choose, had already extended his muscular hands to put his plan in execution, when the jailer suddenly turned about in a great fright.
"Hush!" said he, "do you hear nothing?"
"Upon my word," said Cauvignac, still speaking to himself, "there is something decidedly mysterious in all this; and so much caution ought to alarm me greatly, if it doesn't reassure me."
He stopped abruptly, and demanded:—
"Whither are you taking me?"
"Don't you see?" said the jailer; "into the vaults."
"Deuce take me!" said Cauvignac: "do they propose to bury me alive?"
The jailer shrugged his shoulders, and led the way through a labyrinth of winding corridors, until they came to a low arched door, on which the moisture stood in great drops; from the other side came a strange roaring sound.
The jailer opened the door.
"The river!" cried Cauvignac, starting back in dismay-as his eyes fell upon a swiftly flowing stream as black and forbidding as Acheron.