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The drums rolled, the companies went to take up their posts, and when everyone was in position, Lorin came running.

Initial compliments were exchanged all around as Maurice introduced Lorin to Geneviève and Morand before embarking on a few explanations.

“Yes, yes, I get you,” said Lorin. “You want the citizen and the citizeness to go into the dungeon: that’s easy, I’ll put the sentries in place and tell them to let you and your party pass.”

Ten minutes later, Geneviève and Morand entered the dungeon in the wake of three municipal officers and took their place behind the glass partition.

21

THE RED CARNATION

The Queen had only just arisen. Ill for two or three days, she had stayed in bed longer than usual. But having learned from her sister that the sun was up, magnificent, she had made an effort and had asked to take a walk on the terrace so that her daughter could get some air. The request was granted without any problems.

Then again, there was another reason that decided her. Once—just once, it is true—she had seen the Dauphin in the garden from the top of the tower. But at the first gesture exchanged between mother and son, Simon had intervened and whisked the child back inside.

But that didn’t matter; she had seen him and that meant so much. It’s true the poor little prisoner was very pale and wan and looked much the worse for wear. And then he was dressed like a child of the people, with a carmagnole and big baggy pants. But they’d left his beautiful curly blond hair, which gave him a halo that God no doubt wished the child martyr to take with him into heaven.

If only she could see him again one more time, what a sight for his mother’s sore eyes.

Then again, there was a further reason.

“My sister,” Madame Elisabeth had said to her, “you know we found a wisp of straw in the corridor, propped up in a corner against the wall. In our sign language that means to be alert to what is going on around us and that a friend is drawing near.”

“That’s right,” the Queen had answered, looking with pity at her sister and daughter and reminding herself not to despair of their salvation.

The requirements of duty were completed and Maurice was all the more master of the Temple dungeon, as chance had singled him out for day duty and put the municipal officers Agricola and Mercerault on the night watch. The outgoing officers had left after dropping off their report to the Temple Council.

“So then, citizen municipal officer,” said Mother Tison as she came to greet Maurice, “you’ve brought some company to have a peek at our pigeons? I’m the only one condemned not to see my poor Héloïse.”

“They are friends of mine,” said Maurice, “who’ve never seen the wife of Capet.”

“Well then, they’d be in a perfect spot behind the glass partition.”

“Indeed they would,” said Maurice.

“Only,” said Geneviève, “we’ll look like cruel gawkers who have come to enjoy a prisoner’s torment from the other side of the bars.”

“Well then, why don’t you put your friends on the stairs leading up to the top of the tower; since the Widow Capet is taking a walk there today with her sister and her daughter. They let her keep her daughter, all right! But I, who am not guilty, they took mine away from me. Oh, bloody aristocrats! Whatever happens, there’ll always be perks for them, citizen Maurice.”

“But they took her son away from her,” Maurice replied.

“Ah! If only I had a son,” muttered the jailer, “I reckon I wouldn’t miss my daughter so much.”

Geneviève meanwhile had exchanged a few looks with Morand.

“My friend,” the young woman said to Maurice, “the citizeness is right. If you don’t mind placing me somehow along Marie Antoinette’s passage, that would be less awful for me than peering at her from here. It seems to me that this way of ogling people is humiliating both for them and for us.”

“Good old Geneviève,” said Maurice, “you really are thoughtfulness itself.”

“Oh, for crying out loud, citizeness!” cried one of Maurice’s two colleagues, who was having a breakfast of bread and sausage in the antechamber. “If you were a prisoner and the