Finding no reply, she rushed to the window-sill at the rear and took down an assortment of pike-heads and stilletti, with which were a couple of pistols. She thrust a dirk or pike-head into the hand of each, but to the Admiral she gave one of the pistols; the other she kept.
"There," shrieked she furiously, raising her arm to its full height with the pistol. "That is what I say about this."
They were still sullen and reluctant.
"What have you done, Motte?" the Admiral said, turning to the beggar of Versailles.
"I have seen Fouché; he is persuaded an escape is impossible."
"Who is Fouché?"
"A prison guard of the Châtelet, and belongs to our Galley."
"Did you tell him I had the money?"
"He says money in this case is useless; this is not an ordinary business; the Lieutenant sees to it in person on account of the King's interest in it; it is robbery from the person of a Prince, and a crime against the King on his own lands."
"Reasons only too clear," reflected the Admiral. "Where will the execution be?"