("Ma demeure sera bientot LE NEANT" (My abode will soon be nothingness), said Danton before his judges.)) His, no spectacle of an appalled and perturbed conscience! Remorse is the echo of a lost virtue, and virtue he never knew.

Had he to live again, he would live the same.

But more terrible than the death-bed of a believing and despairing sinner that blank gloom of apathy,--that contemplation of the worm and the rat of the charnel-house; that grim and loathsome NOTHINGNESS which, for his eye, falls like a pall over the universe of life.

Still, staring into space, gnawing his livid lip, he looks upon the darkness, convinced that darkness is forever and forever! ....
Place, there! place! Room yet in your crowded cells.

Another has come to the slaughter-house.
As the jailer, lamp in hand, ushered in the stranger, the latter touched him and whispered.