"No, only a number—88!"
Madame Danglars gave a loud scream and with difficulty stammered:
"Show me the cap?"
Yes, there could be no doubt, the cap bore the number 88, the same which she had noticed on Benedetto's clothing. Had he escaped? And now these people wished to hunt him down like a wild animal, and he would not be able to hide from them.
"We must be going," said one of the peasants; "the convict cannot be far away, and who knows but we shall have luck and find two. It seldom happens that one escapes alone, the double chain is a good invention. Are you all ready?"
"Listen to me, gentlemen," said Madame Danglars firmly; "I will make you a proposition. Let the convict escape."
"And our hundred francs?"
"You will lose nothing! I will give you two hundred francs. It might be a humor, but I cannot reconcile myself to the thought of having a man pursued as if he were a wild animal."
The men looked up.
"The weather is terrible," said one.