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‘What do you want those for?’ Madame Gilbert demanded.
‘For my brother. He will be joining us shortly.’ She did not explain how or why; it was no business of the concierge.
They completed their shopping by buying food at exorbitant prices; the bread alone cost more than twice what it had when she was last in France and the assignat had been devalued by at least half. The country was close to bankruptcy which was why everything looked so run-down.
They set off back to the Embassy, making a detour along Rue St Antoine in order to look at La Force prison. It was situated in an alley, rising tall and grim above the buildings that surrounded it. There was a courtyard in front of it where two guards were marching back and forth before a heavy wooden door. Lisette stopped to look up at its many barred windows, wondering where Michel was and if he could see her if he were to look out. As they watched, a tumbril was driven into the courtyard and came to a stop. The door of the prison was thrown open and several men and two women were prodded out by armed guards. The women were crying and clinging together and had to be forcibly lifted into the tumbril. The men climbed in and stood stoically waiting for it to move off.
The concierge shuddered and crossed herself as the tumbril passed them, escorted by armed guards and accompanied by a crowd on foot, jeering at its occupants. ‘God have mercy on them,’ she said. ‘Let us go, madame, before we are made to join them.’
Lisette turned to leave. ‘Where are they being taken?’
‘To Madame Guillotine. It is the fate of everyone who leaves that place.’
‘Is no one found innocent and set free?’
The woman shrugged. ‘I have never heard of such a thing.’
Jay was not back when they returned to the Embassy and had not returned by supper time. Lisette ate a lonely meal and went to bed. She could not sleep. The sight of that tumbril and its white-faced, weeping occupants haunted her. If the mob had emptied the prisons in that dreadful massacre the previous month, they had soon been filled again. Did Jay have any intention of risking life and limb to get Michel out? He had never met Michel, so why would he? It was up to her. But how? Would the prison warders allow her to speak to her brother? Could she change places with him? If she did, how could she get out herself? Was she prepared to die in his place? In the quiet of the early hours, when the house was silent and even the noise in the street had quieted, it was easy to contemplate doing it. But in the light of a new dawn, would she feel so brave? Was there any other way?
Chapter Eight
Jay was at breakfast when Lisette went downstairs the following morning. He looked tired and was reading some official-looking papers while he ate. He laid them aside to greet her. ‘Lisette, good morning. Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, thank you.’ She sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee which, like the tea, had been brought from England. ‘What are you going to do today?’
‘I am going to attend a court session to see how the justice system works. You may come with me if you wish, but only if you promise to remain silent.’
Wanting to know what it would be like if Michel were brought before a court of law, she decided to ignore his hint that she could not hold her tongue and go with him.
The court sat in the great hall of the Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité. It housed the Palais de Justice as well as the oldest prison in Paris. If the accused were not already held there, they were transferred there in the days before their trial and brought up from the dungeons to attend it. It would not be an easy place to effect a break-out, Lisette decided as they made their way to the courtroom.
There was ample room for hundreds of spectators. Most of the prisoners were political, but not all. There were also thieves, arsonists, blackmailers and prostitutes. These were dealt with swiftly and fairly, but it was those accused of plotting against the Revolution who fared worst. Neither judge nor jury was inclined to leniency—certainly the vociferous public were not. Time after time the judge had to call loudly for order. Witnesses were called, but they came in fear and trepidation.
‘She has been bullied into it,’ Lisette whispered to Jay as one housekeeper gave evidence against her employer, who was accused of writing pamphlets against the Revolution. Another was arraigned for allowing a refractory priest to say mass in his home and his own tearful daughter was required to give evidence against him. Lisette was reminded that her father had done the same thing. Thank goodness he was safe in England.
They had seen and heard enough long before the day’s business was done and left to go back to the Embassy. ‘Michel will have to be freed before he is brought here,’ she said. ‘We could not take him from here with all those people around.’
