THE TWO BILLETS.
From this time the registrar of the Minister of War worked every evening indefatigably in his colleague's office, while Madame Durand dictated from the registers previously prepared, which Durand copied with avidity.
Durand strictly examined everything, while appearing to notice nothing. He had remarked that every evening, at nine o'clock, a basket of provisions, carried by either Richard or his wife, was placed at the door.
The instant the registrar said to the gendarme, "I am going, Citizen," one of the guards, either Gilbert or Duchesne, came out, took the basket, and carried it to Marie Antoinette.
During three consecutive evenings, when Durand had remained rather later at his post, the basket also was left untouched, since it was only when opening the door to say adieu to the registrar that the gendarme took in the basket containing the provisions, which a quarter of an hour afterward was returned empty to the same place by one of the two guards.
On the evening of the fourth day, it was the beginning of October, when after the ordinary sitting the registrar of the Palace had withdrawn, and Durand, or rather Dixmer, remained alone with his wife; he laid down his pen, looked around and listened as if his very life was at stake; he then rose hastily, and running noiselessly toward the door of the wicket, raised the cloth which covered the contents of the basket, and in the new bread destined for the prisoner inserted a small silver case.
Pale and trembling with that emotion which even men of the strongest organization feel when they have done an act of the most vital importance, the moment for which has been long planned and patiently awaited, he quickly regained his seat, and sank down overpowered, placing one hand on his forehead, the other on his heart.
Geneviève regarded him in silence; indeed, since the day her husband had taken her from Maurice, she had never spoken till he addressed her first. But this time she first broke silence.
"Is it to be this evening?" she inquired.