Olivier had already offered him a piece of gold.
"Oh! not for me, for the concierge," the man protested as he beckoned to Olivier to follow him. Passing through the gateway, he presented him to the concierge, a little man, thick set, brisk, and sly, who, seeing them in the distance, had understood Olivier's object, and now asked him the name of the prisoners he wished to see.
"The citoyennes Durand? Very good! Follow me. They must be in the Acacia Court;" and turning round, he added—
"Here is a card which you will return to me when you come out."
He then crossed a dark, narrow corridor, and stopped before an iron grating, which he opened for Olivier to pass in. As he showed him the courtyard he said laughing—
"You will recognise them, won't you?"
And he went away, shutting the grating.
CHAPTER VI
THE PRISON OF LA BOURSE
Olivier found himself on the threshold of a vast courtyard enclosed by high walls, and by two enormous stone and brick buildings with cross-barred windows. The roof of these buildings was bordered by a spiked fence, in order, as it seemed, to make escape impossible. These were the very structures he had seen from the street. They were connected by a stone corridor with a terrace at the end, running parallel with it, where a sentinel patrolled with shouldered arms. The entrance to this corridor was secured by an enormous grating, which when opened put the courtyard in which Olivier now stood in communication with another open space planted with trees.