We marched back through
a railing crowd as we had come, all silent and gloomy. I felt a
chill at my heart when the citadel loomed up again out of the
November shadow, and I half paused as I entered the gates.
"Forward!" said Gabord mechanically, and I moved on into the yard,
into the prison, through the dull corridors, the soldiers' heels
clanking and resounding behind, down into the bowels of the earth,
where the air was moist and warm, and then into my dungeon home! I
stepped inside, and Gabord ordered the ropes off my person somewhat
roughly, watched the soldiers till they were well away, and then
leaned against the wall, waiting for me to speak. I had no impulse
to smile, but I knew how I could most touch him, and so I said
lightly, "You've got dickey-bird home again."
He answered nothing and turned towards the door, leaving the torch
stuck in the wall. But he suddenly stopped short, and suddenly
thrust out to me a tiny piece of paper.
"A hand touched mine as I went through the Chateau," said he, "and
when out I came, look you, this here! I can't see to read.
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