"Oh, mon Jeem!" she cried joyfully. "I knew it could not be for long."
"Piquette! They're going to set us free!"
"Oui, mon brave. An' 'ave you not 'eard? It is Madame 'Orton who 'as make de way clear? Dey capture' Tricot an hour ago in a cellar out near de Porte Maillot. You may know dat I am 'appy. Gr——!"
And she made a queer little sound of repulsion in her throat.
"And Quinlevin?"
"Escape'—gone! Dey cannot find him."
He sat beside her and they talked while they waited.
"What are you going to do, Piquette?" he asked, after awhile.
"Do? Jus' go on living, mon vieux. What else?" she replied calmly.
"I want to help you to get away from him, Piquette——"