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BOOK THE FOURTH.
THE CELL OF TORTURE.
CHAPTER I.
THE TEMPTATION OF ST. GWYNPLAINE.
One jet of flame hardly makes a prick in the darkness; another sets fire
to a volcano.
Some sparks are gigantic.
Gwynplaine read the letter, then he read it over again. Yes, the words
were there, "I love you!"
Terrors chased each other through his mind.
The first was, that he believed himself to be mad.
He was mad; that was certain: He had just seen what had no existence.
The twilight spectres were making game of him, poor wretch! The little
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