come in twice, but I did not want to wake you up. Here are two bottles of excellent wine which our curé, M. Maslon, has sent you."
"What, is that scoundrel still here?" said Julien.
"Yes, monsieur," said the gaoler, lowering his voice. "But do not talk so loud, it may do you harm."
Julien laughed heartily.
"At the stage I have reached, my friend, you alone can do me harm in the event of your ceasing to be kind and tender. You will be well paid," said Julien, changing his tone and reverting to his imperious manner. This manner was immediately justified by the gift of a piece of money.
M. Noiraud related again, with the greatest detail, everything he had learnt about madame de Rênal, but he did not make any mention of mademoiselle Elisa's visit.
The man was as base and servile as it was possible to be. An idea crossed Julien's mind. "This kind of misshapen giant cannot earn more than three or four hundred francs, for his prison is not at all full. I can guarantee him ten thousand francs, if he will escape with me to Switzerland. The difficulty will be in persuading him of my good faith." The idea of the long conversation he would need to have with so vile a person filled Julien with disgust. He thought of something else.
In the evening the time had passed. A postchaise had come to pick him up at midnight. He was very pleased with his travelling companions, the gendarmes. When he arrived at the prison of Besançon in the morning they were kind enough to place him in the upper storey of a Gothic turret. He judged the architecture to be of the beginning of the fourteenth century. He admired its fascinating grace and lightness. Through a narrow space between two walls, beyond the deep court, there opened a superb vista.
On the following day there was an interrogation, after which he was left in peace for several days. His soul was calm. He found his affair a perfectly simple one. "I meant to kill. I deserve to be killed."
His thoughts did not linger any further over this line of reasoning. As for the sentence, the disagreeableness of appearing in public, the defence, he considered all this as slight embarrassment, irksome formalities, which it would be