THE LUXEMBOURG
Robert Tournay breathed easier after having sent the message to Gaillard by La Liberté. Gaillard at least was not likely to become implicated; and the anonymous communication once destroyed, nothing of an incriminating nature would be found, should their lodging be visited. Nevertheless, he could not repress a feeling of disquiet as the iron door of the Luxembourg clanked behind him and he found himself a prisoner.
The cell into which he was conducted was absolutely dark.
"It will not be so bad during the day," volunteered the jailer. "There is a small window that looks out on the courtyard." Tournay drew a sigh of thankfulness on hearing this.
"Your bed is near the door. Can you see it?" asked the jailer.
"I can feel for it," replied Tournay. "Yes, here it is."
"Very well, I will now lock you up safely. Pleasant dreams in your new quarters, citizen colonel." And with this parting salute the cheerful jailer went jingling down the corridor, leaving Tournay in the darkness, seated on the edge of his narrow bed, with elbows on knees and his chin resting in the palms of his hands.
Suddenly he sat up straight and listened attentively. The sound of regular breathing told him that he was not the sole occupant of the cell. "Whoever he may be, he sleeps contentedly," thought Tournay; "I may as well follow his good example." In a very few minutes a quiet concert of long-drawn breaths told of two men sleeping peacefully in the cell on the upper tier of the Luxembourg prison.
The little daylight that could struggle through the bars of the tiny window near the ceiling had long since made its appearance, when Robert Tournay opened his eyes next morning.
His fellow prisoner was already astir; and without moving, Tournay lay and watched him at his toilet. He was most particular in this regard. Despite the diminutive ewer and hand basin, his ablutions were the occasion of a great amount of energetic scrubbing and rubbing, accompanied by a gentle puffing as if he were enjoying the luxury of a refreshing bath. After washing, he wiped his face and hands carefully on a napkin correspondingly small. He proceeded with the rest of his toilet in the same thorough manner, as leisurely as if he had been in the most luxurious dressing-room. A wound in his neck, that was not entirely healed, gave him some trouble; but he dressed it carefully, and finally hid it entirely from sight by a clean white neckerchief which he took from a little packet in a corner of the room near the head of his bed. Having adjusted the neckcloth to his satisfaction, he put on a well-brushed coat, and, sitting carelessly upon the edge of the table,—the room contained no chair,—he began to polish his nails with a little set of manicure articles which were also drawn forth from his small treasury of personal effects.
