liberty, fraternity and equality
had ordered them to forget.

Broken rosaries were fetched out from neglected corners, and knees stiff
with endless, thankless toil were bent once more in prayer.

"Oh God! Good God! Do not allow that woman to flee!"

"Holy Virgin! Mother of God! Make that she should not escape!"

Some of the women went out in the early dawn to take hot soup and coffee
to their men who were watching outside the prison.

"Has anything been seen?"

"Have ye seen the woman?"

"Which room is she in?"

"Why won't they let us see her?"

"Are you sure she hath not already escaped?"

Questions and surmises went round in muffled whispers as the steaming
cans were passed round. No one had a definite answer to give, although
Desire Melun declared that he had, once during the night, caught sight
of a woman's face at one of the windows above: but as he could not
describe the woman's face, nor locate with any degree of precision the
particular window at which she was supposed to have appeared, it was
unanimously decided that Desire must have been dreaming.

"Citizens of Boulogne, awake!"

The cry came first from the Town Hall, and therefore from behind the
crowd of men and women, whose faces had been so resolutely set for all
these past hours towards the Gayole prison.

They were all awake! but too tired and cramped to move as yet, and to
turn in the direction whence arose that cry.

"Citizens of Boulogne, awake!"

It was just the voice of Auguste Moleux, the town-crier of Boulogne,
who, bell in hand, was trudging his way along the Rue Daumont, closely
followed by two fellows of the municipal guard.

Auguste was in the very midst of the sullen crowd, before the men even
troubled about his presence here, but now with many a vigorous "Allons
donc!" and "Voyez-moi ca, fais donc place, voyons!" he elbowed his way
through the throng.

He was neither tired nor cramped; he served the Republic in comfort
and ease, and had slept soundly on his paillasse in the little garret
allotted to him in the Town Hall.

The crowd parted in silence, to allow him to pass. Auguste was lean and
powerful, the scanty and meagre food, doled out to him by a paternal
government, had increased his muscular strength whilst reducing his fat.
He had very hard elbows, and soon he managed, by dint of pushing and
cursing to reach the gateway of Gayole.

"Voyons! enlevez-moi ca," he commanded in stentorian tones, pointing to
the pr