He was trembling violently, and his eyes, before half closed, were now wide open and glaring at Barnwell strangely.
"Prince Mastowix, did you say?"
"Yes, sir; the governor of the Bastile."
"Executed, did you say?"
"Yes, sir."
"Heaven be praised!" cried the old man, falling heavily upon his couch.
Barnwell watched him in surprise for two or three minutes, and then he spoke:
"Did you know him, sir?"
"Know him! Do my thirty-five years of exile, slavery, despair, know him? Yes, it was his treachery that consigned me here, and he was rewarded by Alexander with a title for his work. Oh, do I know him? And he is dead? Tell me all about it–he was executed–stay a moment. What is your name?" he asked excitedly.
"William Barnwell, sir."