Tignonville eyed him with satisfaction, and turned to the staircase.
"Come," he cried, "there is not a moment to be lost. At any minute they
may enter our room and find it empty! You are ready? Then, not too
softly, or it may rouse suspicion! And mumble something at the door."
He began himself to scold, and, muttering incoherently, stumbled down the
staircase, the pallet on his head rustling against the wall on each side.
Arrived at the door, he fumbled clumsily with the latch, and, when the
door gave way, plumped out with an oath--as if the awkward burden he bore
were the only thing on his mind. Badelon--he was on duty--stared at the
apparition; but the next moment he sniffed the pallet, which was none of
the freshest, and, turning up his nose, he retreated a pace. He had no
suspicion; the men did not come from the part of the house where the
prisoners lay, and he stood aside to let them pass. In a moment,
staggering, and going a little unsteadily, as if they scarcely saw their
way, they had passed by him, and were descending the staircase.
So far well! Unfortunately, when they reached the foot of that flight
they came on the main passage of the first-floor. It ran right and left,
and Tignonville did not know which way he must turn to reach the lower
staircase.
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