He had a recompense, however. Gabrielle had answered nobly to the test he had made. She loved him. He was sure of her now; and with that as a consolation to sustain him, the hours of his retirement passed lightly.
When his gaolers entered and led him from the cell in which he had first been placed to one in which stood the instruments of torture, he regretted no longer that he had not avowed his identity.
Rumours of the Governor’s savage treatment of his prisoners had reached him, garnished with many a horrible story of torture and violence. He had now the evidence of this before his own eyes; perhaps to be threatened even against himself; and these things he might never have been able to prove had he declared himself earlier.
That they were there to intimidate him he was soon to know, for a warder entered and began to make them ready for use.
Gerard watched him curiously from the spot where he sat bound, and at length broke silence.
“You ply a strange trade, my friend,” he said.
“Prisoners must be silent,” answered the man. It was Pauline’s father, Pierre, who had received orders from de Proballe in the Duke’s name to have the ghastly instruments in readiness, and to do the work before the prisoner’s eyes.
“Silence, too, eh? Is this another of your Governor’s pleasant methods of hospitality?”
“I tell you to be silent,” replied Pierre gruffly. He had been both troubled and alarmed at the command which his daughter had brought from the Duchess. Fully prepared to do her bidding, he was nevertheless anxious so to do it as to prevent suspicion falling on himself. To him the event might mean life or death; and however strong the Duchess’s intentions might be to shield him in the event of discovery, she might lack the power, should the Governor get proof of his treachery.
“So you are the Governor’s torturer,” said Gerard next. “I don’t envy you your trade.”