"I have my own plan," said Lorin.
Maurice drew his purse from his pocket, and placed it in his friend's hand.
"Now, the pass, for the love of God!—I ought to say for the love of the Supreme Being."
Maurice gave him the pass.
Lorin kissed Geneviève's hand, and availing himself of the moment when a fresh batch of the condemned were ushered in, he leaped the benches, and presented himself before the principal entrance.
"Eh!" said the gendarme, "here is one, it appears to me, trying to escape."
Lorin drew himself up and presented his pass.
"Hold, Citizen Gendarme," said he, "and learn to know people better."
The gendarme recognized the signature of the registrar, but belonging to a class of functionaries rather wanting in confidence, and as at this moment the registrar himself came down from the Tribunal with a nervous shudder, which had not left him since he had so imprudently hazarded his signature,—
"Citizen Registrar," said he, "here is a pass bearing your signature, with which this person wishes to leave the Salle des Morts, is it all right?"