From the information she had received Edmé knew that there was some means of communication between this hall and the prison. This communication she must discover, but she resolved to set about the task coolly and carefully in order that she might not arouse suspicion in the minds of any chance observer. She imagined that she heard footsteps in a corridor on the other side of the chamber, and this reminded her forcibly that she must play the part of the Citizeness Privat. She gave a glance around the room, wondering how the worthy citizeness did her work. The room certainly was dirty and needed a good deal of cleaning. Bits of paper littered the floor and were scattered about upon the desks. Upon a set of shelves, some books and pamphlets were buried so deeply in dust that Edmé began to think the Citizeness Privat had been somewhat lax in the performance of her duty. After a short investigation she discovered a broom in an ante-room; and armed with this she returned to the hall and began to sweep into a heap the scraps of paper that littered the floor. This work soon began to fatigue her, and it also rolled up billows of dust which settled down over chairs and tables. She placed the broom in a corner, and looked about for some easier work which would serve her turn as well. She espied a green cloth protruding from the edge of a table drawer. Opening the drawer she put in her hand and was surprised to find that the innocent cloth encased a large pistol. She removed the weapon and returned it to the drawer, while with the green case as a dust-cloth she made an attack upon the shelves of books with such violence and success as to cause her to draw back quickly with a sneeze. She stopped, and, with the green dust-cloth poised in air, listened attentively. No sound was heard. Cautiously approaching the door she looked up and down the passageway. At the further end of this corridor she could see a small iron-barred door. This, she rightly conjectured, led to the conciergerie, and through it passed the prisoners when they were brought in for trial. She determined to pass into the prison through this door, and went toward it with a firm step. Taking hold of the bars with both hands, she pressed her face against the ironwork. "What do you want here?" demanded a voice, and Edmé saw in the sombre half light the figure of a sentry. He stood so near the door upon the other side that by stretching her hand through the bars she could have touched him. "I wish to enter here," Edmé replied. "One does not enter here, citizeness. Go around to the main entrance on the Quai." "It is so far," she demurred pleadingly. "I have been doing my work here in the tribunal chambers, and now wish to have a few words of conversation with the turnkey Privat." "Who are you?" "I--I am Jeanne Privat, his sister."