“Could you do me the favor of glancing at this, Shepherd? They say you know how to write and read well, and that”—the man peered up at Dian as he spoke—“that seems a passing strange thing for a shepherd.”
“The evenings are long in the country districts, citizen. I have worked through them until late into the night to glean the little knowledge I possess. But what is it I can do for you?” Dian replied.
“Just take a look at this notice I’ve written out and see if it’s readable to your eyes. Marat can’t do much more than write his name, so why should I care about doing any better?” As he spoke the official handed the sheet to Dian, who bent over it.
“There are some words I could change for you, and with your permission I’ll do it,” Dian said. The man consented and Dian sat down at the table and, painstakingly and slowly, corrected the garbled writing. Then he read it out to the official, who nodded with approval.
“You’ve done that well. You are clever, I see,” he commented, taking the paper from Dian and leaning back in his chair and yawning.
Dian was silent for a minute. He wanted to ask if there was any possibility of going through the house, hoping to get a word with the comtesse as he went through. He did not know just how to word his request without arousing suspicion. Raoul helped him out. He ran up to the table just then.
“Oh, citizen Parnette, do let us see the prisoner. Just one look is all I want,” he begged.
Citizen Parnette frowned. What an impudent youngster this messenger boy of his friend, the market gardener, was, to be sure!
“It’s not done, as a rule. They’d be up there, every last one of them, if they knew we had an aristocrat in keeping. Well, it won’t be for long now. She will go to La Force I daresay. You can have a look for friendship’s sake, but keep a quiet tongue about it. Go up the back stairway and straight down a hall. She’s in a room at the left and you can see her because the upper corner of the door is broken through. The mob did that when we first took the house over. She was in the west wing then, but we moved her to the other side.” The official bent over his writing, and Dian and Raoul went on through the long hall to the back of the house.
“Go on ahead of me, my lad. I’ll warrant you’ll take the steps three at a time, and I would take my leisure,” Dian said to Raoul as they came to the foot of a long flight of stairs. How often had the old comte spoken to him of this house of his aunt’s where he had spent so many days of his youth!