Within the houses, the women too had kept the tedious vigil, listening for every sound, dreading every bit of news, which the wind might waft in through the small, open windows.
If one prisoner escaped, every family in Boulogne would be deprived of the bread-winner. Therefore the women wept, and tried to remember those Paters and Aves which the tyranny of liberty, fraternity and equality had ordered them to forget.
Broken rosaries were fetched out from neglected corners, and knees stiff with endless, thankless toil were bent once more in prayer.
“Oh God! Good God! Do not allow that woman to flee!”
“Holy Virgin! Mother of God! Make that she should not escape!”
Some of the women went out in the early dawn to take hot soup and coffee to their men who were watching outside the prison.
“Has anything been seen?”
“Have ye seen the woman?”
“Which room is she in?”
“Why won't they let us see her?”