They stopped a few moments by the old church in front of the Place
d'Armes. The church was flanked on one side by a low brick building, very
white with roof of red and yellow tiles, while to the left of the church
stood a villa-like house half hidden among the trees. They admired the
effect of the moonlight on the tiles, and then, passing through the wooden
fence that enclosed it, they entered the deserted Place d'Armes.
"I can breathe better here," said Henry. "I know that I shall never be
fond of towns."
But the imaginative Paul shuddered.
"Look," he said, "the gallows!"
He pointed to the huge gallows that stood in the Place d'Armes, ready for
frequent use. The moonlight had now grown dim. In its wavering beams the
gallows rose to immense proportions and seemed also to take on the
semblance of life. It reached out its long wooden arm as if to grasp Paul
and with another shudder he turned his back to it.
The two continued down one side of the Place d'Armes in the shade of
magnolias and cypresses that drooped over the wooden fence. As they passed
they heard the sound of a shot.
"Somebody in the city fighting with a rifle or pistol instead of a knife,"
said Paul.
But Henry stood motionless and silent for a moment or two.
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