“Never.”

Thereupon Monsieur de Montresor left Christophe and went into the adjoining room; but the youth was not left long alone.  The door through which he had been brought opened and gave entrance to several men, who did not close it.  Sounds that were far from reassuring were heard from the courtyard; men were bringing wood and machinery, evidently intended for the punishment of the Reformer’s messenger.  Christophe’s anxiety soon had matter for reflection in the preparations which were made in the hall before his eyes.

Two coarse and ill-dressed serving-men obeyed the orders of a stout, squat, vigorous man, who cast upon Christophe, as he entered, the glance of a cannibal upon his victim; he looked him over and estimated him,—­measuring, like a connoisseur, the strength of his nerves, their power and their endurance.  The man was the executioner of Blois.  Coming and going, his assistants brought in a mattress, several mallets and wooden wedges, also planks and other articles, the use of which was not plain, nor their look comforting to the poor boy concerned in these preparations, whose blood now curdled in his veins from a vague but most terrible apprehension.  Two personages entered the hall at the moment when Monsieur de Montresor reappeared.

“Hey, nothing ready!” cried the provost-marshal, to whom the new-comers bowed with great respect.  “Don’t you know,” he said, addressing the stout man and his two assistants, “that Monseigneur the cardinal thinks you already at work?  Doctor,” added the provost, turning to one of the new-comers, “this is the man”; and he pointed to Christophe.

The doctor went straight to the prisoner, unbound his hands, and struck him on the breast and back.  Science now continued, in a serious manner, the truculent examination of the executioner’s eye.  During this time a servant in the livery of the house of Guise brought in several arm-chairs, a table, and writing-materials.

“Begin the proces verbal,” said Monsieur de Montresor, motioning to the table the second personage, who was dressed in black, and was evidently a clerk.  Then the provost went up to Christophe, and said to him in a very gentle way:  “My friend, the chancellor, having learned that you refuse to answer me in a satisfactory manner, decrees that you be put to the question, ordinary and extraordinary.”

“Is he in good health, and can he bear it?” said the clerk to the doctor.

“Yes,” replied the latter, who was one of the physicians of the house of Lorraine.

“In that case, retire to the next room; we will send for you whenever we require your advice.”

The physician left the hall.