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Latour knew the truth about him, was the only man who did, and held the proof, therefore Mathon was bound to serve him. He came quickly out of the wine shop and followed Latour into a side street. "You know the room where this aristocrat was placed to-day?" "Yes, citizen." "She is not likely to be moved from there?" "No, citizen, not until not until she is condemned."
Mathon laughed as they shrank from him. "Disappointed again," he said. "You are not called to-night. You will have another pleasant dream about it. Perhaps to-morrow your turn will come. It's time. This fine apartment is wanted for better people." Then he turned and walked towards the fourth prisoner. If she were afraid she succeeded in hiding the fact.
Presently there came heavy footsteps, and two of those dreaded officers of the Convention, men whose hours were occupied in spreading terror and in feeding the guillotine, stood before him. "Jailer Mathon?" "Yes." "You have in your charge an emigré, Jeanne St. Clair. She is to be removed forthwith to the Conciergerie. There is the order."
Mathon took up a lantern and by the dim light read the paper handed to him. It was all in order, the full name of the emigré duly inserted, the genuine signature of the governor of the prison at the foot of the document. The jailer looked from the paper into the face of the man who had handed it to him. "Do they set over prisoners fools who cannot read?" asked the man.
"No; the paper is in order," Mathon answered. "Obey it then. Fetch out the emigré." Mathon folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket. "It is down this passage," and his keys jingled. His fingers trembled a little as the men followed him. A few yards from the door the men halted. "Bring her quickly. We have other work to do to-night more important than this."
"I hoped to see Mathon where is he?" "Drinking in the nearest wine shop, citizen, I'll wager, since he is off duty." "It is a bad habit for turnkeys to drink," said Latour, severely, and the red-capped bully felt a sudden qualm of nervousness in his frame as he remembered how powerful this man was. "Mathon is a good fellow. I spoke in jest, not to do him harm.
Barrington had taken Seth to the Rue Valette last night, and from the shadow on the opposite side of the street had pointed out Latour to him. Seth had followed Latour to the Abbaye prison, had seen him call Mathon from the neighboring wine shop, and before he slept Barrington had received the information. That Latour should go so promptly to this particular prison was at least surprising.
"Because he is a simpleton for so doing," said Louis XV with the utmost gravity, giving me at the same time an affectionate embrace. The prince des Deux Ponts Prince Max The dauphin and Marie Antoinette The comtesse du Barry and Bridget Rupert The countess and Genevieve Mathon Noel Fresh amours Nocturnal adventure Conclusion of this intrigue
He swore partly to keep his own courage at the proper pitch, for the dismal corridors of the Abbaye were depressing to-night. Approaching footsteps startled Mathon, and the sudden salutation of a comrade turned him pale. The night was oppressive, yet he found it cold enough to make him shiver.
Only two persons had any part in the scheme, Jacques Sabatier and Mathon, the jailer; each had his own particular work in it, had received definite and minute instructions, yet neither of them knew the whole plot. Latour did not take them entirely into his confidence; he did not ask their advice, he only told them how to act. The week was as any other week to Jacques Sabatier.
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