armor of Justice.

On hearing the rasping of the heavy locks and bolts of his door, Jacques
Collin resumed his mask of a dying man; he was helped in this by the
intoxicating joy that he felt at the sound of the warder's shoes in the
passage. He had no idea how Asie would get near him; but he relied
on meeting her on the way, especially after her promise given in the
Saint-Jean gateway.

After that fortunate achievement she had gone on to the Place de Greve.

Till 1830 the name of La Greve (the Strand) had a meaning that is now
lost. Every part of the river-shore from the Pont d'Arcole to the Pont
Louis-Philippe was then as nature had made it, excepting the paved way
which was at the top of the bank. When the river was in flood a boat
could pass close under the houses and at the end of the streets running
down to the river. On the quay the footpath was for the most part raised
with a few steps; and when the river was up to the houses, vehicles had
to pass along the horrible Rue de la Mortellerie, which has now been
completely removed to make room for enlarging the Hotel de Ville.

So the sham costermonger could easily and quickly run her truck down to
the bottom of the quay, and hide it there till the real owner--who was,
in fact, drinking the price of her wares, sold bodily to Asie, in one
of the abominable taverns in the Rue de la Mortellerie--should return
to claim it. At that time the Quai Pelletier was being extended, the
entrance to the works was guarded by a crippled soldier, and the barrow
would be quite safe in his keeping.

Asie then jumped into a hackney cab on the Place de l'Hotel de Ville,
and said to the driver, "To the Temple, and look sharp, I'll tip you
well."

A woman dressed like Asie could disappear, without any questions
being asked, in the huge market-place, where all the rags in Paris are
gathered together, where a thousand costermongers wander round, and two
hundred old-clothes sellers are chaffering.

The two prisoners had hardly been locked up when she was dressing
herself in a low, damp entresol over one of those foul shops where
remnants are sold, pieces stolen by tailors and dressmakers--an
establishment kept by an old maid known as La Romette, from her
Christian name Jeromette. La Romette was to the "purchasers of
wardrobes" what these women are to the better class of so-called ladies
in difficulties--Madame la Ressource, that is to say, money-lenders at a
hundred per cent.

"Now,