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Then he burst out laughing. The young advocate pretended not to understand him. It was but prudent that he should appear ignorant of what had happened the night before, and thus avoid all suspicion of a complicity which substantially did not exist. "And still," Blangin went on, "this is not the end of it yet. The gendarmes are all out. If they should catch my poor Trumence!
If she does not speak to you, you keep on: something has happened. If she does speak to you, go up to her, you, quite alone, and she will show you into a small room which adjoins her own. There you will stay till Blangin, perhaps at a late hour, thinks he can safely take you to M. de Boiscoran's cell.
The clerk's face expressed the most startled surprise. He said, "What! You know his name?" "Yes, I do; for Blangin mentioned him to me; and the name struck me the day when M. de Boiscoran's mother and I went to the jail, not knowing what was meant by 'close confinement." The clerk was disappointed. "Ah!" he said, "now I understand M. Galpin's great trouble.
They have paid me for my place, have not they? Well, I mean to go." "You are a fool!" his wife had replied. "As long as M. de Boiscoran is a prisoner there is a chance of profit. You don't know how rich those Chandores are. You ought to stay." Like many other husbands, Blangin fancied he was master in his own house. He remonstrated. He swore to make the ceiling fall down upon him.
Ah, I tell you, it is just as I say. I know it from a friend who heard it from a clerk at the mayor's office. Blangin the jailer, they say, is seriously implicated." "I hope soon to see you again," said the young advocate, and left him abruptly.
"And, besides, I know the jailer, Blangin: his wife was formerly in our service." When the young girl, therefore, raised the heavy knocker at the prison-door, she was full of cheerful confidence. Blangin himself came to the door; and, at the sight of the two poor ladies, his broad face displayed the utmost astonishment. "We come to see M. de Boiscoran," said Dionysia boldly.
Will you let me perish, Genevieve, when you know I am innocent? "JACQUES." "Is that enough?" he asked, handing the lawyer the note. "Yes; and I promise you I will see the Countess Claudieuse within the next forty-eight hours." Blangin was becoming impatient; and the two advocates had to leave the prison.
That Dionysia should accept all the conditions of Blangin the jailer was perfectly natural; but to obtain M. de Chandore's consent was a much more difficult task. The poor girl understood this so well, that, for the first time in her life, she felt embarrassed in her grandfather's presence. She hesitated, she prepared her little speech, and she selected carefully her words.
Each one of these rolls contains a thousand francs; and here are sixteen." An irresistible temptation seized the jailer. "May I see?" he asked. "Certainly!" replied the young girl. "Look for yourself and count." She was mistaken. Blangin did not think of counting, not he. What he wanted was only to gratify his eye by the sight of the gold, to hear its sound, to handle it.
"I ought not to tell you but never mind I cannot let you go away without telling you that M. de Boiscoran is quite well." "Ah!" "Yesterday, when they brought him here, he was, so to say, overcome. He threw himself upon his bed, and he remained there without stirring for over two hours. I think he must have been crying." A sob, which Dionysia could not suppress, made Blangin start.
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