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and blinder, and tore away the gates of Godís own Temple every

Among these terrors, and the brood belonging to them, the Doctor
walked with a steady head: confident in his power, cautiously
persistent in his end, never doubting that he would save Lucieís
husband at last. Yet the current of the time swept by, so strong and
deep, and carried the time away so fiercely, that Charles had lain
in prison one year and three months when the Doctor was thus
steady and confident. So much more wicked and distracted had the
Revolution grown in that December month, that the rivers of the
South were encumbered with the bodies of the violently drowned
by night, and prisoners were shot in lines and squares under the
southern wintry sun. Still, the Doctor walked among the terrors
with a steady head. No man better known than he, in Paris at that
day; no man in a stranger situation. Silent, humane, indispensable
in hospital and prison, using his art equally among assassins and
victims, he was a man apart. In the exercise of his skill, the
appearance and the story of the Bastille Captive removed him from
all other men. He was not suspected or brought in question, any
more than if he had indeed been recalled to life some eighteen
years before, or were a Spirit moving among mortals.
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