“Come, my lad,” said the turnkey sternly, “no tricks, if you please.  Turn round,” cried he savagely, “and make your bow to the gentlemen.”

Robinson wheeled round with flashing eyes, and checking an evident desire to dash at them, instantly made a bow so very low, so very obsequious, and, by a furtive expression, so contemptuous, that Mr. Lepel colored with indignation and moved toward the door in silence.

The turnkey muttered, “He has been very strange this few days past.  Mr. Fry thinks he is hardly safe.”  Then, turning to the new chaplain, the man, whose name was Evans, said, “Better not go into his cell, sir, without one of us with you.”

“What is the matter with him?” inquired the reverend gentleman.

“Oh, I don’t know as there is anything the matter with him; only he has been disciplined once or twice, and it goes down the wrong way with some of them at first starting.  Governor says he will have to be put in the dark cell if he does not get better.”

“The dark cell? hum!  Pray what is the effect of the dark cell on a prisoner?”

“Well, sir, it cows them more than anything.”

“Where are your dark cells?”

“They are down below, sir.  You can look at them after the kitchen.”

“I must go into the town,” said Mr. Lepel, looking at his watch.  “I promised to dine with my relations at three o’clock.”

“Come and see the oubliettes first.  We have seen everything else.”

“With all my heart!”

They descended below the ground-floor, and then Evans unlocked a massive tight-fitting door opening upon what appeared to be a black substance; this was, however, no substance—­but vacancy without any degree of light.  The light crossing the threshold from the open door seemed to cut a slice out of it.

The newcomers looked into it.  Mr. Lepel with grim satisfaction, the other with awe and curiosity.

“When shall you be back, Lepel?” inquired he thoughtfully.

“Oh, before nine o’clock.”

“Then perhaps you will both do me the honor to drink a cup of tea with me,” said Mr. Jones, courteously.

“With pleasure.”

“Good-by, then, for the present,” said the new chaplain.

“Why, where are you going?”

“In here.”

“What, into the dark cell?”

“Yes!”

“Well!” ejaculated Evans.

“You won’t stay there long.”

“Until you return, Lepel.”

“What a fancy!”

Mr. Jones looked not a little surprised.  The turnkey grinned.  The reverend gentleman stepped at once into the cell and was lost to sight.

“Do not let me out before eight o’clock,” said his voice, “and you, Lepel, inquire for me as soon as you return, for I feel a little nervous.  Now shut the door.”

The door was closed on the reverend gentleman, and the little group outside, after looking at one another with a humorous expression, separated, and each went after his own affairs.