“We have come,” said de Bresy, putting down his lantern as he used his key again. He had to push twice at the door, before it went back on its hinges with a sullen groan, and before us lay a dungeon which all but matched the Chausse d’Hypocras, that fearful prison den of the Châtelet.
“Does that satisfy you?” asked de Bresy, as we gazed on the damp and dripping walls, where the drops of water oozing from their surface flashed like gems in the ruddy light of the lantern. Even against myself I shuddered.
“To put him here!” I muttered, and de Bresy, catching the words, spoke again.
“You will judge better if you step within. Except just outside this door not a voice could be heard, call it ever so loudly.”
I wanted a moment to think, and did as I was bidden. The next instant the door closed behind me with a crash, and I was in total darkness. Outside I heard de Bresy laughing, but it was as the laugh of a man coming from a far distance.
I staggered back blindly, and my groping hands felt the wet and slippery walls; and then on the instant the whole horror of the thing seized me. Tricked! Cozened! Trapped like a fox! With a curse I flung myself at the door and battered at it with both hands. I might as well have tried to tear down Notre Dame with my fingers. In those moments I lived years. I was bursting with shame and mortification. No long-eared ass could have walked into a pitfall more easily than I had done. And then I heard de Bresy’s voice again, and the door slowly swung back. As the light fell on me, he rocked in senseless, foolish laughter.
“Ye gods!” he almost screamed, “I did but try you, de Vibrac. You are as white as a sheet.”
I came out slowly and laughed myself—a harsh laugh that rang back from the vaulted roof.
“’Tis a sorry jest, monsieur, and one for which you must answer me.”
He simply bowed—my tone had sobered him—and turned toward the lantern. Ay! The fool had given me the key to my difficulty in his idle jest. Quick as thought I was on him, but he turned like a wildcat at me, and for a moment we grappled together. Backward and forward we swayed. I heard the key he held fall with a clash to the floor, and he caught at my wrist, for my hand was at his throat, and he tugged vainly to free himself.