igures was Perine clear. These she repeated again and again,
while more than once Jean's sharp whisper reached his wife's ears. "Make
haste, make haste!" and she signed caution in return.

When she had gone there was for some time absolute silence in the
garret, Jean having flung himself on his bed, and given himself up to a
wild delirium of hope. By-and-by this took the form of restlessness. He
tossed and tumbled on his bed, and, his ear full of sounds which
expectation and imagination brought there, sometimes started up, keen to
listen, and the next moment pressed his fingers into his ears, to try to
shut out these delusive sounds. Then he became almost as reckless as to
Perine; what did her seeing him matter when so soon he would be a free
man? Once or twice the bed creaked and groaned under his tossings, so
that he imagined she would surely look round. But no, the girl was blind
and deaf to everything but Marie's orders, she sat squarely on the
wooden stool with her elbows on her knees, and her chin on her hands,
every now and then uttering a disjointed sob, until fatigue and tears
brought about their natural consequence, and it became evident that she
was asleep.

Jean got up and shook himself and looked out at her, his head in a
whirl. He began to think that Marie was long absent, and to lay the
blame on the back which was always ready to bear his burdens.

"She will not know where to go, she will stand gossipping with any fool
who asks her a question, and in this time I would wager a piece of
twenty _sous_ the police or some other busy-body will have got on the
track. What more likely? And there's an end to our luck. Why did I let
her waste all these moments? Why didn't I go myself? Women always muddle
things. There would have been a scene, beyond doubt. '_Hola!_--thunder
and lightning, who may this be?'" Jean planted himself in an attitude,
and struck his chest violently. "Then I should have drawn myself up,
always with dignity--thus--'This, gentlemen, is none other than Jean
Didier!'--'Who? What!'--'Jean Didier, at your service, gentlemen,
falsely denounced as Communist, executed and reported dead, but, as you
see alive, and able to render an important service to an ungrateful
country.'--That sounds sublime! I flatter myself it would have produced
an impression. Why didn't I go? Women, with all their good intentions,
haven't an idea of the value of a stroke like that! It requires genius.
And I foresee my exce