The cement which held the large blocks of stone together had crumbled away, leaving crevices through which one might look from one room into the other.
M.d'Escorval mechanically applied his eye to one of these interstices.
Perhaps he had a friend for a neighbor, some wretched man who was to share his fate.

He saw no one.

He called, first in a whisper, then louder.

No voice responded to his.
"If _I_ could only tear down this thin partition," he thought.
He trembled, then shrugged his shoulders.

And if he did, what then?
He would only find himself in another apartment similar to his own, and opening like his upon a corridor full of guards, whose monotonous tramp he could plainly hear as they passed to and fro.
What folly to think of escape! He knew that every possible precaution must have been taken to guard against it.
Yes, he knew this, and yet he could not refrain from examining his window.