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Nibet enquired, in a tone he tried to make as casual as possible, but that trembled a little nevertheless. "Quite," said Colas, perfectly naturally, and he went away. Nibet could contain himself no longer, and the next second he threw caution to the winds: rushing to Gurn's cell he flung the door open.
At six, when he actually came on duty, Nibet opened the peephole in the door of number 127, as he did in all the others, and saw that Gurn had made an admirable dummy figure in the bed: it was so good that it even deceived a head warder who made a single rapid inspection of all the cells when Nibet was on one of his several rounds during the night.
Here, give her this," and he tore a leaf out of his pocket-book and, scribbling a few words on it, handed it to Nibet. "Well," said the warder hesitatingly: "I don't say 'no." "You've got to say 'yes," Gurn retorted. The two looked steadily in each other's eyes; then the warder blenched. "Yes," he said.
You must have gone out last night, or these things would not be like this." Gurn smiled sympathetically at the warder. "Not so bad!" he remarked; "that's pretty good reasoning for a mere gaoler." And as Nibet was about to press the matter, Gurn anticipated his questions, and made frank confession.
What was to be done with regard to that personage? With much ingenuousness Nibet confided his anxiety to the prisoner, who laughed. "It's not all over yet," he declared. "Indeed, it is only just beginning. What if we only wanted to test you, and prove your quality? Make your mind easy, Nibet. If Gurn is in prison at the present moment it is because he has his own reasons for being there.
There were present the Attorney General, the Public Prosecutor, his deputy, the Governor of the prison, and behind these, M. Havard, Deibler, and his two assistants. The little company passed through the corridors to the third floor, where the condemned cells are. The warder Nibet came forward with his bunch of keys in his hand. Deibler looked at the Public Prosecutor.
"I am to meet her to-night at eleven, in the boulevard Arago," Nibet said, after a moment's hesitation. "Good," said Gurn. "Well, you are to tell her that I must have ten thousand francs." "What?" exclaimed the man, in utter astonishment, but his eyes shone with greed. "Ten thousand francs," Gurn repeated calmly, "and by to-morrow morning.
"That's funny!" thought Nibet, and he passed through the main courtyard towards the clerks' offices at the end. Through the windows he could see the staff, a few bending over their work, most of them reading newspapers, none of them obviously interested in anything special. Next he presented himself before the warders' turnkey, and again he was allowed to pass on without a word.
"Don't look so miserable," he said. "I am here. That is a matter of absolutely no importance. We will suppose that nothing passed between us yesterday, and that's an end to it." "So you haven't gone, you didn't go?" said Nibet again. "No," Gurn replied; "since you are so interested, all I need say is that I was afraid to risk it at the last minute."
All manner of notions crowded through Nibet's brain, but he could find words for none of them. Had the plot been discovered before Gurn had had time to get away, or had a trap been laid for himself through the medium of one of the prisoners to test his own incorruptibility? Nibet went white, and leaned against the wall for support. At last Gurn spoke again, reassuring him with a smile.
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