From the doorway, the solemn face of Le Corbeau peered in, flanked by the mocking smirk of Sans-Chagrin. Dossonville, master of the quiet room, strode up and down in indecision, with glowing eyes fastened on the frightened three, who dared not meet the menace of his glance.
After five minutes of this torture, during which all awaited the order of arrest, Dossonville suddenly halted, extended his hand, and cried:
"Pass out!"
Sans-Chagrin, fearing to misinterpret the command, checked the foremost, asking:
"Citoyen, are we to arrest them?"
"Not now."
Confident that the menace would rid the city of the three, Dossonville turned anxiously to the doctor.
"Well, citoyen, what's your verdict?"
"Nothing to be done."