"I am not likely to! Here! A spare horse for Le Brusquet!" And he sprang into his saddle.
Someone brought up a nag, Le Brusquet mounted, and the word being given for the Châtelet they went out at a trot, the prince riding in front between De Mouy and Albain, his hat pulled over his eyes, and in silence.
Whilst all this was happening it fared ill enough with me. Though felled by the blow on my head I was not stunned, only so dazed that my recapture was an easy matter. This time no risks were taken, and with my hands tied behind me by means of a long scarf, the other end of which was looped round the high pommel of a trooper's saddle, I was perforce compelled to accompany my captors as best I could, bleeding and dizzy from my hurt.
At length we arrived at the Châtelet, followed to the very gates by the mob. As my blurred vision saw through the moonlight those sombre walls, citadel and prison at once, my heart sank. Hope was left behind in those fearful oubliettes, whose sinister names carried utter despair with them. There was the Grièche, the Barbary, the Chausse d'Hypocras, where the prisoners, ankle deep in water, were neither able to stand upright nor to sit; the Fosse, down which one was lowered by a rope, and the hideous Fin d'Aise in which no man retained his sanity. So it had come to this! And in sullen despair I stood amongst the guards, awaiting Martines' pleasure. At first it seemed as if I were the only prisoner; but any doubts on that point were soon set at rest, for another unfortunate was dragged up and placed beside me. I felt rather than saw it was La Mothe—but, unlike myself, he was not bound—and then I heard Martines ask:
"Are these the only two prisoners?"
"Monsieur!" answered a subordinate officer.
The lieutenant of the Châtelet was not an unkindly man, and muttering something about "hangman's work" he came up and surveyed us by the light of the torches. Then he ordered my hands to be freed, and drawing his subaltern aside gave him some commands in a low tone, and went off.
As Martines turned away this person directed us to follow him, and, surrounded by guards, we entered a vaulted passage, and after descending and ascending many stairs found ourselves before a studded door, so low that even a short man would have had to stoop his shoulders to enter therein. A gaoler fumbled with the rusty lock, which for a space resisted all his efforts; but at last it yielded, and the door was pushed open, clanging harshly as it swung back. Beyond lay a hideous dungeon, into which we were thrust, the officer following us with a couple of guards, one of whom carried a lantern. The light discovered a long and narrow prison, the ooze dripping from the walls, and the floor slippery with slime. A single slit in the wall, no wider than three fingers of a man's hand and about a foot in length, let in light and air. For the rest, a stone bench and a jug full of foul water completed the furniture of this terrible chamber. Faint and dizzy, I made towards the bench, and sat thereon in the shadow as the officer said:
"I must ask you to share this lodging for to-night. It is known as the Palace," he added, with a grin, and then pulling out his tablets he turned to La Mothe.
"Your name, monsieur."