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Updated: May 25, 2025
And, whilst he was following Blangin along the dismal passage and down the interminable steps, he was busily composing respectful phrases, and trying to look self-possessed. But, before he could utter a single word, he was in his father's arms. He felt himself pressed against his heart, and heard him stammer, "Jacques, my dear son, my unfortunate child!"
I begin to hope I shall not lose my place." Dionysia accepted these words as a summons to speak out. "Ah!" she said, "don't mind your place: don't you know I have promised you a better one?" And, with a gayety which was very far from being real, she opened her little bag, and put upon the table the rolls which it contained. "Ah, that is gold!" said Blangin with eager eyes. "Yes.
There remained nothing now but to perfect the details; and to this task the two lawyers were devoting themselves still, when Blangin, the jailer, called to them through the wicket, that the doors of the prison were about to be closed. "Five minutes more, my good Blangin!" cried Jacques.
He knew very well that Blangin and his wife were honest people, in spite of their avarice and their covetousness; he knew that Jacques de Boiscoran was an honourable man. But still, during the whole night, his old servant heard him walk up and down his room; and at seven o'clock in the morning he was at the door, looking anxiously up and down the street.
Like a true peasant of his promise, Trumence was far too cunning to expose Blangin unnecessarily. Assuming, therefore, the whole responsibility of the evasion, he replied, "The jailer saw nothing. We had no use for him. Was not I, so to say, under-jailer? Had not I been charged by you yourself, M. Galpin, with keeping watch over M. Jacques?
It was a short note, such as a sensible man would write who knows full well that a prisoner cannot count upon the secrecy of his correspondence. It was not even sealed, a fact which M. Blangin had not noticed. "Dionysia, my darling," wrote the prisoner, "the thought of the terrible grief I cause you is my most cruel, and almost my only sorrow. Need I stoop to assure you that I am innocent?
"You will understand, gentlemen," Blangin went on, "that I did not feel quite reassured. It is a bad cell that in which M. de Boiscoran is staying. Since I have been at Sauveterre, one man has killed himself in it, and one man has tried to commit suicide.
When this was done, and the stocking, full to overflowing, had been put back in the cupboard under a pile of linen, she ordered her husband, "Now, you go down. Somebody might be coming; and, if you were not there to open when they knock, that might look suspicious." Like a well-trained husband, Blangin obeyed without saying a word; and then his wife bethought herself how to entertain Dionysia.
"The jail in Sauveterre is not at all like the police-stations and prisons of larger towns. The prisoners are few in number; they are hardly guarded. When the doors are shut, Blangin is master within." "I will go and see him to-morrow," declared Dionysia. There are certain slopes on which you must glide down.
"You are at home here, madam; and the jail and the jailer are at your disposal. What do you desire? Just speak. I have nine prisoners, not counting M. de Boiscoran and Trumence. Do you want me to set them all free?" "Blangin!" said his wife reprovingly. "What? Am I not free to let the prisoners go?"
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