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Updated: May 20, 2025
But who is able to predict the future?" It was time for Gurn to go to the exercise yard, and Nibet, reassuming the uncompromising attitude that all warders ought to maintain when in custody of prisoners, led the murderer down to the courtyard.
"You really aren't," the other agreed. "Such a number of awful murders and crimes are being perpetrated every day that you would think not one, but a dozen Fantômas were at work!" Nibet went off duty at five in the morning, and returned to his own home to go to bed.
The bell had rung some minutes ago, proclaiming that the exercise time was over. The two men hurried upstairs to cell number 127 on the third floor, and the prisoner was locked in alone, while Nibet went about his duty as usual.
"Look in my pocket-book; my name's inside; and you'll find a letter too; proof of the trap I've been led into: the letter from that woman over there!" "Better look and see, Nibet," one warder said to the other, and to Valgrand he added: "Not so much noise, man! Do you mean to get us all caught?" Nibet passed a quick hand through Valgrand's pockets; there was no note-book there.
"It was a good idea of yours, M. Nibet, to insist on my getting my dinner sent in from outside." Nibet winked; he appreciated his prisoner's tact; obviously he was not one to make untimely allusions to the warder's breach of discipline in conveying money to him so simply, but so very irregularly. As he ate Gurn chatted with Nibet. "I suppose it is you who will get Siegenthal's place?"
A few minutes later Maître Roger de Seras had rejoined his lady friends, and the prisoner was once more in his cell. Gurn was walking nervously up and down in his cell after this interview, when the door was pushed open and the cheery face of the warder Nibet looked in.
"Yes," said Nibet, sipping the wine Gurn had offered him. "I have asked for the berth no end of times, but it never came; I was always told to wait because the place was not free, and another berth must be found first for Siegenthal, who was my senior. But the old beast would never make any application.
Gurn himself was shaken by the horror of the plot he had contrived with his mistress to effect this substitution of another for himself; it surpassed in ghastliness anything that had gone before, and he had not dared to give the least hint of it to Nibet. "The warders were well paid," he said to reassure her now. "They would deny everything."
Nibet was going away, and was already almost in the corridor when Gurn calmly called him back. "You will evolve a plan, and I will start to-morrow. Don't forget to bring me a time-table; the Orleans Company time-table will do." The murderer was not disappointed in his expectations. The next morning Nibet appeared with a mysterious face and eager eyes.
Nibet had cast a keen and experienced eye all over the cell; under the washstand he saw the little bundle of clothes which he had brought the prisoner the previous day. He rightly opined that the first thing to do was to remove these dangerous articles, whose presence in Gurn's cell would appear very suspicious if they happened to be discovered.
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