From the street below came the muffled sounds of wheeled traffic on the soft mud of the road; it was raining more heavily now, and from time to time a gust of wind rattled the small windows in their dilapidated frames, or hurled a shower of heavy drops against the panes.
The heat from the stove had made Armand drowsy; his head fell forward on his chest.

Chauvelin, with his hands held behind his back, paced ceaselessly up and down the narrow room.
Suddenly Armand started--wide awake now.

Hurried footsteps on the flagstones outside, a hoarse shout, a banging of heavy doors, and the next moment Heron stood once more on the threshold of the room.

Armand, with wide-opened eyes, gazed on him in wonder.

The whole appearance of the man had changed.