“You do not want to flee?”
“Never! Under no circumstances! But you ought to remember, that, while resisting all your arguments, I told you, that perhaps, some day or other, I might require a few hours of liberty.”
“I remember.”
“I begged you to sound the jailer on that point.”
“I did so. For money he will always be ready to do your bidding.”
Jacques seemed to breathe more freely.
“Well, then,” he said again, “the time has come. To-morrow I shall have to be away all the evening. I shall like to leave about nine; and I shall be back at midnight.”
Dionysia stopped him.
“Wait,” she said; “I want to call Blangin’s wife.”
The household of the jailer of Sauveterre was like many others. The husband was brutal, imperious, and tyrannical: he talked loud and positively, and thus made it appear that he was the master. The wife was humble, submissive, apparently resigned, and always ready to obey; but in reality she ruled by intelligence, as he ruled by main force. When the husband had promised any thing, the consent of the wife had still to be obtained; but, when the wife undertook to do any thing, the husband was bound through her. Dionysia, therefore, knew very well that she would have first to win over the wife. Mrs. Blangin came up in haste, her mouth full of hypocritical assurances of good will, vowing that she was heart and soul at her dear mistress’s command, recalling with delight the happy days when she was in M. de Chandore’s service, and regretting forevermore.