“Well, then,” he said again, “the time has come.  To-morrow I shall have to be away all the evening.  I shall like to leave about nine; and I shall be back at midnight.”

Dionysia stopped him.

“Wait,” she said; “I want to call Blangin’s wife.”

The household of the jailer of Sauveterre was like many others.  The husband was brutal, imperious, and tyrannical:  he talked loud and positively, and thus made it appear that he was the master.  The wife was humble, submissive, apparently resigned, and always ready to obey; but in reality she ruled by intelligence, as he ruled by main force.  When the husband had promised any thing, the consent of the wife had still to be obtained; but, when the wife undertook to do any thing, the husband was bound through her.  Dionysia, therefore, knew very well that she would have first to win over the wife.  Mrs. Blangin came up in haste, her mouth full of hypocritical assurances of good will, vowing that she was heart and soul at her dear mistress’s command, recalling with delight the happy days when she was in M. de Chandore’s service, and regretting forevermore.

“I know,” the young girl cut her short, “you are attached to me.  But listen!”

And then she promptly explained to her what she wanted; while Jacques, standing a little aside in the shade, watched the impression on the woman’s face.  Gradually she raised her head; and, when Dionysia had finished, she said in a very different tone,—­

“I understand perfectly, and, if I were the master, I should say, ’All right!’ But Blangin is master of the jail.  Well, he is not bad; but he insists upon doing his duty.  We have nothing but our place to live upon.”

“Have I not paid you as much as your place is worth?”

“Oh, I know you do not mind paying.”

“You had promised me to speak to your husband about this matter.”

“I have done so; but”—­

“I would give as much as I did before.”

“In gold?”

“Well, be it so, in gold.”

A flash of covetousness broke forth from under the thick brows of the jailer’s wife; but, quite self-possessed, she went on,—­

“In that case, my man will probably consent.  I will go and put him right, and then you can talk to him.”

She went out hastily, and, as soon as she had disappeared, Jacques asked Dionysia,—­

“How much have you paid Blangin so far?”

“Seventeen thousand francs.”

“These people are robbing you outrageously.”

“Ah, what does the money matter?  I wish we were both of us ruined, if you were but free.”

But it had not taken the wife long to persuade the husband.  Blangin’s heavy steps were heard in the passage; and almost immediately, he entered, cap in hand, looking obsequious and restless.

“My wife has told me every thing,” he said, “and I consent.  Only we must understand each other.  This is no trifle you are asking for.”