by William Sage
CHAPTER XXII
CITIZENESS PRIVAT'S CARD
"How does one obtain admission to visit a prisoner, citizen doorkeeper?"
"How does one obtain permission?" repeated the keeper without looking upfrom the work with which he was occupied. "One waits in that room," andhe gave a wave of the pen, "until the proper hour, then if one passessatisfactorily under the inspection of the chief prison-keeper andeverything appears to be quite regular, one is allowed to see andconverse with the prisoner for a short time."
"I wish to see some one here. Pray tell me where I shall find the chiefkeeper?"
"I am he," replied the keeper, pausing as he dipped his pen in the ink,and looking over the top of his desk saw a woman neatly but simplydressed, as became a citizeness of the Republic. The outlines of herfeatures were partly hidden by the hood of a gray cloak drawn up abouther head, but the shadows cast by this garment were not deep enough tohide altogether the beauty of the oval face beneath it.
"Whom do you wish to see?" he asked, evidently satisfied with hisinspection, for he dipped his pen in the ink-bottle and resumed hiswork of ruling perpendicular lines in a ledger.
"I wish to see the prisoner, Robert Tournay."
The jailer put down his ruler. "That is impossible; the prisoner Tournayis not here."
"Not here! Then he has been set at liberty!" The cry of joy that sprangto her lips checked itself, frozen by the quick negative gesture on thekeeper's part. She placed one hand upon the iron rail before her andclosed her fingers tightly around it. "He is not--Do not tell me he isdead!" she whispered, looking up at the inexpressive face with apleading expression in her eyes, as if the jailer were the arbiter ofTournay's fate.
"Transferred to the conciergerie. You may see for yourself, citizeness,"and he held up the book and pointed with his forefinger to the notationupon the neatly ruled page, "'Trans. to C.' That means that RobertTournay, former colonel in the army of the Republic, was yesterdaytransferred to the prison of the conciergerie."
Edme's heart grew cold. She had no means of knowing the full purport ofthe change, but she felt that it boded nothing but ill to RobertTournay.
"Can you tell me why this removal was made?" she asked, although fearingto hear the answer.
"To facilitate his trial. As every one knows the Revolutionary Tribunalis in the same building with the conciergerie. A prisoner may be broughtfrom his cell in the prison into the tribunal chamber, be tried,sentenced, and returned to his dungeon without once being obliged to gooutside. He only passes out into the streets on his way to theguillotine."
"Has the trial already taken place? Can I see him if I go there atonce?" she demanded hurriedly.
As the jailer saw the young woman's evident distress his voice softeneda little as he made reply: "That you may be prepared for anotherdisappointment, I tell you now, that in order to visit him in theconciergerie, you will have to be furnished with a written permit fromsome member of the committee. Robert Tournay is confined 'in secret.'"
"Thank you, citizen jailer," was the faint reply. As Edme turned andleft the prison lodge, the custodian of the Luxembourg bent over hiswork again. The book was already filled with lists of names, writtenevenly in long columns. This book was the record of all the prisoners ofthe Luxembourg. When one left the prison his departure was duly noted inthe space opposite his name. His transfer to another jail was indicatedby the abbreviation "trans." If he was summoned before the tribunal andacquitted, this fact was chronicled by the letters "acq." If he wassentenced to death by the guillotine, the jailer marked him with alittle black cross "X." He had once been a schoolmaster, and it was hispride to keep his prison records with neatness and accuracy.
"Nevertheless, I am going to the conciergerie," said Edme to herself asshe passed along the Rue Vaugirard; "to the conciergerie," sherepeated. She stopped abruptly in the street as the remembrance of theCitizeness Privat came to her mind. Putting her hand into her pocket,she drew out the card. "'Permit the Citizeness Privat to enter the roomsof the tribunal.' I will be Madame Privat to-night" was Edme'sresolution. "Once in the tribunal chamber, I shall at least be very nearthe prison."
It was late in the afternoon when she reached the Quai de l'Horloge thatskirted the frowning walls of the formidable prison. She passed the irongrating of the yard, and looking in, wondered why some sparrows whichwere twittering and fighting on the pavement beneath an unhealthylooking tree should remain for a moment in a prison yard when they hadthe whole outside world to fly in. Her pace, which had been a rapid oneall the way from the Luxembourg, slackened as she approached the mainentrance, and her fingers closed tightly on the card in her pocket,while the heart beneath the gray cloak beat rapidly.
She did not know where to find the tribunal chamber. She had never beenin that part of Paris before. She only knew that somewhere in that pileof gray stone were the old Parliament rooms, at present converted intothe tribunal chambers of the Republic. Once in those rooms she would beunder the same roof with Robert Tournay. Passing along the prison wall,she turned up the Rue Barillerie, and there saw the words "RevolutionaryTribunal," in large letters over a doorway. Here was the place to beginthe role of the Citizeness Privat.
The June evening was warm, and the air in the street fetid, as if itwere poisoned by the prison atmosphere; yet with a quick movement of thehand she pulled the hood closer about her face, and rapidly ascended thestone staircase.
A porter sitting by the doorway looked at her with indifferent gaze, butsaid nothing as she showed him the permit. She passed into the largehall with a strange feeling, as if she were no longer Edme de Rochefort.
From the information she had received Edme knew that there was somemeans of communication between this hall and the prison. Thiscommunication she must discover, but she resolved to set about the taskcoolly and carefully in order that she might not arouse suspicion in theminds of any chance observer.
She imagined that she heard footsteps in a corridor on the other side ofthe chamber, and this reminded her forcibly that she must play the partof the Citizeness Privat. She gave a glance around the room, wonderinghow the worthy citizeness did her work. The room certainly was dirty andneeded a good deal of cleaning. Bits of paper littered the floor andwere scattered about upon the desks. Upon a set of shelves, some booksand pamphlets were buried so deeply in dust that Edme began to think theCitizeness Privat had been somewhat lax in the performance of her duty.After a short investigation she discovered a broom in an ante-room; andarmed with this she returned to the hall and began to sweep into a heapthe scraps of paper that littered the floor. This work soon began tofatigue her, and it also rolled up billows of dust which settled downover chairs and tables. She placed the broom in a corner, and lookedabout for some easier work which would serve her turn as well.
She espied a green cloth protruding from the edge of a table drawer.Opening the drawer she put in her hand and was surprised to find thatthe innocent cloth encased a large pistol. She removed the weapon andreturned it to the drawer, while with the green case as a dust-cloth shemade an attack upon the shelves of books with such violence and successas to cause her to draw back quickly with a sneeze. She stopped, and,with the green dust-cloth poised in air, listened attentively. No soundwas heard. Cautiously approaching the door she looked up and down thepassageway.
At the further end of this corridor she could see a small iron-barreddoor. This, she rightly conjectured, led to the conciergerie, andthrough it passed the prisoners when they were brought in for trial. Shedetermined to pass into the prison through this door, and went toward itwith a firm step. Taking hold of the bars with both hands, she pressedher face against the ironwork.
"What do you want here?" demanded a voice, and Edme saw in the sombrehalf light the figure of a sentry. He stood so near the door upon theother side that by stretching her hand through the bars she could havetouched him.
"I wish to enter here," Edme replied.
"One does not enter here, citizeness. Go around to the main ent
rance onthe Quai."
"It is so far," she demurred pleadingly. "I have been doing my work herein the tribunal chambers, and now wish to have a few words ofconversation with the turnkey Privat."
"Who are you?"
"I--I am Jeanne Privat, his sister."
"Well--such being the case, I will let you come through, but you must besure to come out this way, citizeness. If you were seen going out of thelower entrance, not having entered there, it might get both of us introuble. And you might lose your place as well as I."
As he spoke he opened the lower half of an iron wicket. "Duck your heada little, citizeness, and enter quickly."
Edme did not need a second bidding; the gate closed with a snap, and shewas inside the conciergerie.
"Privat is in the second corridor. Go to the right and then turn to theleft," said the warder. "There he is now, just at the corner," he addedhastily. "Hey, Privat," and he gave a prolonged, low whistle, "here isyour sister, come to see you."
Francois Privat was slow of speech as well as of brain, so he merelystood gaping with amazement at sight of the young woman who claimed himas a brother, and who bore not the slightest resemblance to his sisterJeanne. Edme stepped quickly forward toward the turnkey, saying in a lowvoice as she approached him:--
"I bring _a message_ from your sister; the good sentry should have toldyou." Then in the same breath, she went on hurriedly to say: "The poorwoman was taken quite ill this afternoon, so ill that she had to be putto bed. I came to do her work in the tribunal chambers, but thought youshould be told of your sister's illness, so asked the sentry to let mespeak to you."
In her trepidation, she hardly knew what words came to her lips.
There was silence; then after Privat had gotten the information into hishead, and had digested it, he said slowly:--
"Tell Jeanne Privat that I shall come to see her--let me see--day afterto-morrow--no--the day after that, Thursday, my first free time."
Edme looked up into his face. He was very tall and of a ruddycomplexion, fully fifteen years younger than his sister.
"Is that all your message?" she inquired, in order to gain time forthought.
"At four o'clock in the afternoon, if you like, but she knows the timewell enough--from four to six."
Then without showing any further interest in the subject, theimperturbable Privat took up his bunch of keys and began to polish oneof them upon his coatsleeve.
There was a pause.
Edme summoned all her courage and spoke with as much composure as shecould assume, although she felt that her voice trembled:--
"Citizen Privat, I have an urgent request to make you."
Privat blinked at her out of his stupid eyes.
"But I am prepared to pay for it."
A sign of animation seemed to come into the turnkey's face, but he didnot move nor seek to question her.
"What I am about to ask may be very difficult for you to do, and that iswhy I am prepared to pay you _well_." She dwelt upon the last words,seeming to guess that she had struck the right note.
"How much are you prepared to pay?" he asked in his slow way.
Edme drew a purse from the folds of her gown, and opening it disclosed anumber of shining gold pieces. Privat's eyes were animated now.
"All that!" he exclaimed. "What do you want me to do for it? It must besomething dangerous. I--I am not a brave man."
"It is merely," continued Edme, holding the open purse in her hand, "toprocure me speech with a prisoner."
"What prisoner?"
"Colonel Robert Tournay."
"But it is impossible; he is in secret confinement."
"I know he is, but what I ask is not impossible. There are five hundredfrancs here; five hundred francs, all for you, if you will but bring meto the cell of Robert Tournay."
"I cannot do that; I have not the key."
"You know who has the key. Surely some of this gold will enable you toget it. I leave the means with you."
Privat's mind seemed to be going through the process which served himfor thought.
"At the further end of the south corridor," he finally said, motioningwith a key, "in half an hour, the prisoner Tournay will be allowed towalk for exercise. The south corridor is separated from this one by agrated door. I will see that you get through that door. That is all Ican do."
Edme pressed the purse into his huge palm, which closed upon itgreedily.
"Shall I come with you now?" she asked, her pulse beating high betweenexpectation, hope, and fear.
"No, wait here in the shadow until I come to fetch you to him. I shallalso come to tell you when you must leave the south corridor. You willhave to do so quickly and go back the same way you came. If you arediscovered here, I shall get into trouble. You understand?"
"I understand," she answered.
