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Walking regularly to and fro with his arms folded on his breast,

a very different man from the prisoner, who had walked to and fro

at La Force, he heard One struck away from him, without surprise.

The hour had measured like most other hours. Devoutly thankful to

Heaven for his recovered self-possession, he thought, "There is

but another now," and turned to walk again.

Footsteps in the stone passage outside the door. He stopped.

The key was put in the lock, and turned. Before the door was

opened, or as it opened, a man said in a low voice, in English:

"He has never seen me here; I have kept out of his way. Go you in

alone; I wait near. Lose no time!"

The door was quickly opened and closed, and there stood before

him face to face, quiet, intent upon him, with the light of a

smile on his features, and a cautionary finger on his lip, Sydney

Carton.