Evening star., 1927-10-13

the aid of a sort of luminous dusk
he distinguished at first semi circle
of walls indented by winding stairs
and opposite him. at the top of five
or six stone steps, a sort of black
portal, opening into an immense cor
ridorN whose first arches only were
visible from below.
Stretching himself fiat he crept to
the threshold. Yes, it was really a
corridor, but endless in length. A
wan light illumined it: lamps sus-
pended from the vaulted ceiling
lightened at intervals the dull hue
of the atmosphere--the distance was
yelled in shadow. Not a single door
appeared in the whole extent! Only
on one side, the left, heavily grated
loopholes, sunk in the walls, ad-
mitted a light which must be that
of evening. for crimson bars at in
tervals rested on the flags of the
pavement. What a terrible silence!
Yet, yonder, at the far end of that
passage, there might be a doorway
of escape! This cavillating hope was
tenacious, for it was the last.
Without hesitating. he ventured on
the flags, keeping close under the
loophOles, trying to make himself
part of the blackness of the long
walls. He advanced, slowly, dragging
himself along on his breast, forcing
back the cry of pain when some raw
wound sent a keen pang through his
whole body.
Suddenly the sound Of sandaled
foot approaching reached his eeers.
He trenbled violently; fear stified
him; his sight grew dim. We'll, it
was over, no doubt. He pressed him
self into niche and, half lifeless
with terror, waited.
1t was a familiar hurrying along.
He passed swiftly by, holding in his
clenched hand an instrument of tor
ture-a frightful flgure-and van
ished. The suspense which the poor
old man had endured seemed to have
suspended the functions of life. and
he lay nearly an hour unable to
move. Fearing an increase of tor
lures if he were captured, he thought
of returning to his dungeon. But
the old hope whispered in his soul.
A miracle had happened. He could
doubt no longer. He began to crawl
toward the chance of. escape. Ex-
hausted by suffering and hunger.
trembling with pain, he pressed on
ward. The sepulchral corridor
seemed to lengthen mysteriously.
while he, still advancing, gaZed into
the gloom where there must be some
avenue of escape.
Oh! Oh! He again heard footsteps,
but this time they were slower, more
heavy. The white and black forms
of two Tnquisitors appeared, emerging
from the obscurity beyond. They
were conversing in low tones, and
seemed to be discussing some i'm
portant subject, for they were gestic-
| ulating strongly.
At this spectacle the old man closed
his eyes; his heart beat SO violently
that it almost suffocated him; his rags
were damp with the cold sweat Of
agony; he lay motionless by the wall,
his mouth wide open, under the rays
| of a lamp, praying.
Just opposite him the two Inquisi.
| tors paused under the light of the
| lamp-doubtless owing to some acci.
| dent due to the course of their argu-
ment. One. while listening to his com.
panion, gaZed at the old man! And,
beneath the look-whose absence of
expression the unfortunate man did
not at first notice-he fancied he again
| felt the burning pincers scoreh his
| flesh: he was to be once more a living
wound. Painting, breathless. with
| fluttering eyelids, he shivered at the
| touch of the Inquisitor's flowing robe.
| But-strange yet natural fact-the
| Inquisitor's gaze was evidently that
| of a man deeply absorbed in his in.
| tended reply, engrossed by what he
was hearing. His eyes were fixed
and seemed to look at the old man
without seeing him!
In fact, after the lapse of a few
| minutes, the two gloomy figures
slowly pursued their way, still con
versing in low tones, toward the place
whence the prisoner had come. He
had not been seen! Amid the horri
| BILE confusion of the old mans
thoughts. the idea darted through his
brain: Can I already be dead that
| they did not see me?"
Forward! He must hasten toward
| that goal which he fancied to be de.