“What! Monsieur has not heard of the affair Rigaud? Rigaud who did the double murder!”
“Oh, yes! In the Faubourg du Temple.”
The sentry nodded. “He dies this week.”
“And the child?”
“Is his.”
Gethryn looked at the dirty little bundle of tatters.
“No one knows the exact day set for the affair, but,” the sentry sank his voice to a whisper, “between you and me, I saw the widow going into the yard just before dinner, and Monsieur de Paris is here. That means tomorrow morning—click!”
“The—the widow?” repeated Gethryn.
“The guillotine. It will be over before this time tomorrow and the gamin there, who thinks the bossu will give him back his father—he’ll find out his mistake, all in good time—all in good time!” and shouldering his rifle, the sentry laughed and resumed his slouching walk before the gateway.
Gethryn nodded to the soldier’s salute and went up to the child, who stood leaning sullenly against the wall.