Bianchon shook his head in negation.
“Beauvoir was eating his heart out, for death alone could set him free. One morning the turnkey, whose duty it was to bring him his food, instead of leaving him when he had given him his meagre pittance, stood with his arms folded, looking at him with strange meaning. Conversation between them was brief, and the warder never began it. The Chevalier was therefore greatly surprised when the man said to him: ‘Of course, monsieur, you know your own business when you insist on being always called Monsieur Lebrun, or citizen Lebrun. It is no concern of mine; ascertaining your name is no part of my duty. It is all the same to me whether you call yourself Peter or Paul. If every man minds his own business, the cows will not stray. At the same time, I know,’ said he, with a wink, ‘that you are Monsieur Charles-Felix-Theodore, Chevalier de Beauvoir, and cousin to Madame la Duchesse de Maille.—Heh?’ he added after a short silence, during which he looked at his prisoner.
“Beauvoir, seeing that he was safe under lock and key, did not imagine that his position could be any the worse if his real name were known.
“‘Well, and supposing I were the Chevalier de Beauvoir, what should I gain by that?’ said he.
“‘Oh, there is everything to be gained by it,’ replied the jailer in an undertone. ‘I have been paid to help you to get away; but wait a minute! If I were suspected in the smallest degree, I should be shot out of hand. So I have said that I will do no more in the matter than will just earn the money.—Look here,’ said he, taking a small file out of his pocket, ‘this is your key; with this you can cut through one of your bars. By the Mass, but it will not be any easy job,’ he went on, glancing at the narrow loophole that let daylight into the dungeon.
“It was in a splayed recess under the deep cornice that ran round the top of the tower, between the brackets that supported the embrasures.
“‘Monsieur,’ said the man, ‘you must take care to saw through the iron low enough to get your body through.’
“‘I will get through, never fear,’ said the prisoner.
“‘But high enough to leave a stanchion to fasten a cord to,’ the warder went on.
“‘And where is the cord?’ asked Beauvoir.