Three men, the redhead among them, opened their thick jackets simultaneously. One was wrapped about in hemp, like Jean himself, the other two, one of whom was the redhead, who seemed to be called Thomas, had stuck into their belts the long grappling irons which were to be thrown up over the wall.
'We'll be on our way then,' the young leader declared. 'In small groups, if you please, and try and look as natural as you can. You three' – once again he addressed the newcomers – 'you three follow at a little distance, as if you were on your way to spend the evening with friends. And try not to get lost.'
'No fear of that,' Gracchus muttered. 'I know Keravel like the back of my hand. I could get about the place with my eyes shut.'
'Better keep them open, all the same! Otherwise you might run into things you don't expect.'
In small groups, two or three at a time, they left the boat, until the only people left on board were an old man, who answered to the name of Nolff and the cabin boy, Nicolas. Marianne and her escort were the last to leave. The girl's fingers tightened nervously on Jolival's arm. In spite of the cold, she felt as if she were stifling. When they plunged into the unsavoury streets of Keravel, she had the impression that the houses, their overhanging upper stories all crooked and reared up at strange angles, were only waiting to spring on her. This was the first time she had ventured into this area of the town, a place forsaken by God but not by men, and the maze of squalid, twisting alleyways where now and then the red light of a tavern shone through greasy curtains, were obscurely terrifying. Far ahead, as though at the end of a tunnel, a lantern hung, creaking, on a chain stretched between two crumbling buildings, but every dark, shadowy hole and corner in between was filled, she saw with a sick feeling of disgust, with a squeaking, scampering colony of rats, scurrying to and fro among the refuse on the ground. The slender ribbon of sky seemed so far away that there was no hope of even the smallest star.
'You ought to have stayed on the boat,' Jolival said, feeling her shiver, but Marianne pulled herself together instantly:
'No, not for anything!'
They were obliged to make a detour to avoid passing directly in front of the big gates of the prison and the guards on duty there but not long afterwards the little band was stretched out in the shelter of the great, dark walls, hearing the steady tramp of the sentry going his rounds on the footway above. One by one, they passed between the prison and the rope-walks, deserted at this late hour, and, rounding a corner to the right, saw before them a series of barred windows on the far side of a wall distinctly lower than the rest. This was the prison hospital. There was light in the windows, a feeble, reddish glow that probably came from a night light.
On a level with the first of these windows, Jean Ledru assembled his party. Taking off his coat, he began unwinding the rope from his middle. Joel did the same, while Thomas and Goulven unfastened their grapnels. Marianne pointed a little timidly at the window:
'There are bars… How will you manage?'
'You don't think we'll be going in that way?' the Breton said, on a smothered chuckle. 'There's a door on the other side of the wall. We can jump the sentry from the top and flatten him!'
The grapnels were made fast in a moment. The sailors stood back, drawing Marianne and Jolival with them. Jean Ledru and Thomas measured their distances and then, standing with legs well apart for balance, they began to swing the grapnels with the same easy motion.
They were just about to let go when, suddenly, Jean let his go slack and signed to Thomas to do the same. There had come a sound from above. They heard a noise of running footsteps, then lights sprang up in one window after another. Then, without warning, and so close that it felt to Marianne as if the entire wall had exploded, came the report of a cannon being fired, followed by a second and a third.
Throwing caution to the winds, Jean Ledru swore comprehensively and snatched up his equipment:
'There's been an escape! They'll search the prison, then the town. After that the coast and country around. Back to the boat, all of you, fast as you can make it!'
Marianne's cry came like an echo: 'But we can't! We can't go and leave Jason!'
But already the men had scattered, making their own way through the dismal lanes of the old quarter. Seizing Marianne swiftly by the arm, Jean began dragging her firmly away, ignoring her protests:
'It's all off for the present. If we stay here, we'll only get ourselves caught.'
Marianne made desperate efforts to resist, still looking back frantically at the windows, behind which figures were already moving about. The whole prison was awake now. There were sounds of nailed boots running and the dick of weapons being cocked. Someone had got to the bell and was hauling on it like a madman, sending its ominous strokes booming and clanging out over the festive town.
With Ledru on one side of her and Jolival gripping her just as firmly on the other, Marianne was forced to run with them, although her heart was thudding painfully in her chest and her feet were bruised and tender from stubbing them on the slippery cobbles. She raised her tear-filled eyes to the sky and smothered a groan. It was all clouded over and there were no stars at all.
'Faster!' Ledru said gaspingly. 'Faster! They can still see us.'
The black streets of Keravel swallowed them up and, once in darkness, Arcadius halted, still holding Marianne, forcing the younger man to do the same.
'Now what's the matter?' Ledru barked at him. 'We are not there yet.'
'No,' the Vicomte agreed calmly. 'But can you tell me where the danger is now? It is not written on our faces that we have been intending to help a prisoner to escape. Do we look any less like honest folk out to enjoy ourselves than we did on the way here?'
Ledru's panic left him in an instant. He took off his woollen cap and ran his fingers like a comb through his sweat-streaked hair.
'You're quite right. It was the cannon – I think it must have sent me off my head. Of course, we'd much better just walk back quietly. We've had it for tonight, anyway…' He paused, seeing Marianne burst into gasping sobs on Jolival's shoulder. 'I'm truly sorry, Marianne. Maybe we'll have more luck next time.'
'Next time! He'll be dead before then. They'll have killed him!'
'Never think that! We may be luckier than you expect. And it's nobody's fault if some other poor devil had the same idea as us and chose Christmas Eve to show a clean pair of heels.'
He was trying, in his clumsy way, to comfort her, but Marianne refused to be comforted. She pictured Jason, lying on his hospital bed with his chains sawn through, waiting for a rescue that never came. What would they do to him tomorrow when they found his fetters loose? Would the man Vidocq, perhaps, manage somehow to prevent the worst?
The little group had moved on again. Jean Ledru went ahead now, hands in his coat pockets, cap pulled down over his eyes and back hunched forward, eager to have the deck of his ship beneath him again. Marianne followed, more slowly, clinging to Jolival's compassionate arm, her mind still searching feverishly for a way to achieve the impossible and rescue Jason after all. She felt as if every step she took was carrying her inexorably farther away not only from the prison, but also from the man she loved. In the privacy of her hood, she wept, in small, hard sobs that hurt her throat.
When they reached the waterfront, Jean hurried straight to his boat, not without an uneasy sidelong glance at the gendarme who was strolling up and down with hands behind his back with every appearance of a man waiting for something. Jolival bent and spoke quietly in Marianne's ear:
'We had better go back to Recouvrance, child. Wait here, while I go and fetch our bags and find out what has become of Gracchus. He must have gone with the sailors.'