"I will take your boy's clothes with me," he continued as he prepared to leave the room, "lest you should be tempted to put them on again from force of habit. We don't want you turning into a boy any more. No, you make too pretty a woman." Then going up to the jailer he said something to him in a low voice which Edmé could not hear. Potin seemed to be remonstrating feebly. Leboeuf scowled, and from his manner appeared to insist upon the point at issue. "Are you sure you are not afraid?" he said again abruptly to Edmé as he went to the door and stood with one hand on the latch looking back into the room. "No!" He looked at her admiringly. "Remember you are a woman now and have a perfect right to be afraid; also to kick and scream when anything is the matter." Edmé made no reply. "In case you should ever feel afraid," he said significantly, "just send for Leboeuf, that's all," and with this he left the room. Edmé remained in Potin's charge for two days. The jailer treated her with great consideration, and she congratulated herself upon having fallen into such kindly hands. She momentarily expected to be summoned before the Tribunal. She did not know what the result would be; but she looked forward to her trial with impatience. In any event it would end the suspense in which she was living. On the afternoon of the second day Potin entered her room, accompanied by one of his deputies. "You must prepare to go with this man, citizeness," said the little jailer. "Has the Tribunal sent for me? she inquired. "Not yet. But you are to be transferred to another prison." "I prefer to stay here," she said. "Cannot you ask them to allow me to remain?" "You have no choice in the matter, nor have I; I have only my orders." "From whom did the order come? From that man Leboeuf who came here the other day?" she demanded quickly. "I am not at liberty to say," replied Potin, shifting his feet uneasily. "Are you forbidden to tell me where I am to be taken?" was her next question. "To prison boat Number Four. The city prisons are so full," he continued, in answer to her look of surprised inquiry, "that great numbers have to be lodged in the boats anchored in the river. Number Four is one of the largest," he added as if by way of consolation. In company of the deputy Edmé was conducted to the floating prison on the Loire. As they stepped over the side they were met by a little round-shouldered man with splay feet. His face was wrinkled and brown almost to blackness; his dress showed that he had a fondness for bright colors, as he wore a purple shirt with a crimson sash, a bright yellow neckcloth, and a red cap. The deputy turned over his charge to him, received his quittance, and went away.