CHAPTER IX.
ST. LAZARE.
The prison of St. Lazare, especially devoted to female thieves and prostitutes, is daily visited by many ladies, whose charity, whose names, and whose social position command universal respect. These ladies, educated in the midst of the splendours of fortune,—these ladies, properly belonging to the best society,—come every week to pass long hours with the miserable prisoners of St. Lazare; watching in these degraded souls for the least indication of an aspiration towards good, the least regret for a past criminal life, and encouraging the good tendencies, urging repentance, and, by the potent magic of the words, Duty, Honour, Virtue, withdrawing from time to time one of these abandoned, fallen, degraded, despised creatures, from the depths of utter pollution.
Accustomed to delicacy and the most polished breeding of the highest circles, these courageous females quit their homes, after having pressed their lips on the virgin foreheads of their daughters, pure as the angels of heaven, and go into dark prisons to brave the coarse indifference or infamous language of these thieves and lost women.
Faithful to their tasks of high morality, they boldly plunge into the tainted soil, place their hands on those gangrened hearts, and, if any feeble pulsation of honour reveals to them a slight hope of recovery, they contend for and snatch from irrevocable perdition the wretched soul of which they have never despaired.
Having said so much by way of introduction to the new scenes to which we are about to direct attention, we will introduce the reader to St. Lazare, an immense edifice of imposing and repulsive aspect, situated in the Faubourg St. Denis.
Ignorant of the shocking drama that was passing at her own house, Madame d'Harville had gone to the prison, after having received certain information from Madame de Lucenay as to the two unhappy females whom the cupidity of Jacques Ferrand had plunged into misery. Madame de Blinval, one of the patronesses of the charity of the young prisoners, being on this day unable to accompany Clémence to St. Lazare, she had gone thither alone. She was received with great attention by the governor and the several female superintendents, who were distinguished by their black garments and the blue riband with the silver medal which they wore around their necks. One of these superintendents, a female of mature age, with a serious but kind expression of countenance, remained alone with Madame d'Harville, in a small room attached to the registry office.
We may easily suppose that there is often unrecognised devotion, understanding, commiseration, and sagacity amongst the respectable females who devote themselves to the humble and obscure function of superintendent of the prisoners. Nothing can be more excellent, more practical, than the notions of order, work, and duty which they endeavour to instil into the prisoners, in the hope that these instructions may survive their term of imprisonment. In turns indulgent and firm, patient and severe, but always just and impartial, these females, incessantly in contact with the prisoners, end, after the lengthened experience of years, by acquiring such a knowledge of the physiognomy of these unfortunates that they can judge of them almost invariably from the first glance, and can at once classify them according to their degree of immorality.
Madame Armand, the inspectress who remained with Madame d'Harville, possessed in a remarkable degree this almost supernatural prescience as to the character of the prisoners; her words and decisions had very great weight in the establishment.
Madame Armand said to Clémence: