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Monsieur Bonacieux

           Theylockedthemercerinthesamedungeonwherehehadpassedthenight,andlefthimtohimselfduringtheday.Bonacieuxweptallday,likeatruemercer,notbeingatallamilitaryman,ashehimselfinformedus.Intheevening,aboutnineo’clock,atthemomenthehadmadeuphismindtogotobed,heheardstepsinhiscorridor.Thesestepsdrewneartohisdungeon,thedoorwasthrownopen,andtheguardsappeared.

           "Followme,"saidanofficer,whocameupbehindtheguards.

           "Followyou!"criedBonacieux,"followyouatthishour!Where,myGod?"

           "Wherewehaveorderstoleadyou."

           "Butthatisnotananswer."

           "Itis,nevertheless,theonlyonewecangive."

           "Ah,myGod,myGod!"murmuredthepoormercer,"now,indeed,Iamlost!"Andhefollowedtheguardswhocameforhim,mechanicallyandwithoutresistance.

           Hepassedalongthesamecorridorasbefore,crossedonecourt,thenasecondsideofabuilding;atlength,atthegateoftheentrancecourthefoundacarriagesurroundedbyfourguardsonhorseback.Theymadehimenterthiscarriage,theofficerplacedhimselfbyhisside,thedoorwaslocked,andtheywereleftinarollingprison.Thecarriagewasputinmotionasslowlyasafuneralcar.Throughthecloselyfastenedwindowstheprisonercouldperceivethehousesandthepavement,thatwasall;but,trueParisianashewas,Bonacieuxcouldrecognizeeverystreetbythemilestones,thesigns,andthelamps.AtthemomentofarrivingatSt.

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