"I tell you what to do," said Clément, "take one from the day after to-morrow. They are in too great a hurry in the office these days to compare the lists; they just see if the number tallies, and send off the warrants to the keepers of the various prisons." "But if I do that I shall still be one short, day after to-morrow." "No you will not," replied the facile Clément; "you just take one from the day following that, and so on and so forth. You merely keep the thing going. Your lists and warrants will agree as to number every day. No question arises, and the only result is that some fellow gets shoved along under the national razor just twenty-four hours earlier than he would have, had not some one,--I won't say named Hanneton,--but some one who shall be nameless, made a little blunder." "I rather dislike to do such a thing, Clément." "Oh, Hanneton, my boy, I always said you were slow. What's twenty-four hours to a man who has got to die anyway? and then think of Bonnefoi; he'll be overlooked for a long time. Some of those fellows among the aristocracy have been in prison two or three years already. They get to like it and lead quite a jolly life there. I am told they have fine times in some of the prisons. Bonnefoi will be wondering why they don't come to shave him, but he won't say anything. Bonnefoi won't peep. You can count on his silence." "But my friend Clément, it will be discovered some day." "Well, I can't look ahead so far as that. If you are found out you can say you made a mistake. They can't any more than discharge a man for making a mistake." "I'll do it, Clément. Here goes--good luck to Bonnefoi." "And good luck to the fellow you shove ahead in his place; we'll drink an extra glass to him when we finish work to-night. Let's see what may his name be." "'_Tournay, Robert, former Colonel!_' Hello, what's that?" cried Clément, interrupting him. "I did not hear anything," replied Hanneton. "The sound seemed to come from the next room." "Oh, it's only that woman who is cleaning the place. She has knocked over a table or a chair. Come. Let's go out and get something to eat. I'm famished. We can return later, and finish our work." CHAPTER XXIV TWO WOMEN The revelation that Tournay was condemned, the awful knowledge that he would be executed on the morrow, conveyed to her thus suddenly, made the room reel before Edmé's eyes. In her dizziness she fell against one of the tables and held to it for support. In the quiet that followed the departure of the clerks she pressed her head and tried to think. At first her benumbed brain refused to work; then as the full significance of the clerk's action came back to her, when she realized just what he had done and what she in her turn might do, she stood erect, alert, and courageous. The warrant for Robert's death; could she get possession of it? With a beating heart she glided into the chamber of death warrants.