“Will you ask if Monsieur Camusot is come yet?” said she, seeing some gendarmes playing cards.
“Yes, madame, he has just come up from the ‘mousetrap.’”
“The mousetrap!” said she. “What is that?—Oh! how stupid of me not to have gone straight to the Comte de Granville.—But I have not time now. Pray take me to speak to Monsieur Camusot before he is otherwise engaged.”
“Oh, you have plenty of time for seeing Monsieur Camusot,” said Massol. “If you send him in your card, he will spare you the discomfort of waiting in the ante-room with the witnesses.—We can be civil here to ladies like you.—You have a card about you?”
At this instant Asie and her lawyer were exactly in front of the window of the guardroom whence the gendarmes could observe the gate of the Conciergerie. The gendarmes, brought up to respect the defenders of the widow and the orphan, were aware too of the prerogative of the gown, and for a few minutes allowed the Baroness to remain there escorted by a pleader. Asie listened to the terrible tales which a young lawyer is ready to tell about that prison-gate. She would not believe that those who were condemned to death were prepared for the scaffold behind those bars; but the sergeant-at-arms assured her it was so.
“How much I should like to see it done!” cried she.
And there she remained, prattling to the lawyer and the sergeant, till she saw Jacques Collin come out supported by two gendarmes, and preceded by Monsieur Camusot’s clerk.
“Ah, there is a chaplain no doubt going to prepare a poor wretch——”
“Not at all, Madame la Baronne,” said the gendarme. “He is a prisoner coming to be examined.”
“What is he accused of?”