"Citizens, you have entertained me vastly this afternoon with your tales of La Guillotine! I hope you will come again to help me pass a dull hour! What will you take, Citizen Coudert?" But in spite of his apparent unconcern, his heart misgave him somewhat, for though La Souris said nothing to alarm him, he watched the boy more suspiciously than ever. He hurried home that night to Mère Clouet and Yvonne, with joy and fear mingled in his heart, and told them all the wonderful news, and the two Clouets spent some happy days thereafter, preparing for their royal guests. The time passed while they were waiting for the auspicious day, and the conspirators were careful not to be seen too much in each others' company. Once, however, when Forget and Michonis happened to meet and exchange a few low-whispered words in the courtyard, if they had looked behind them, they would have noticed a little, wiry, evil-faced creature skulking around the corner of the building near which they stood. Jean, the lynx-eyed, from his vantage ground in the tavern doorway, caught sight of La Souris' suspicious manoeuvres. He left the door, and strolled nonchalantly--past his friends, singing loudly, "Allons, enfants de la patrie!" Just when he was opposite them he muttered between his teeth, "'Ware La Souris!" and sauntered on. The two men parted, and were careful not to meet again. At last the long-looked-for day arrived. Michonis and Cortey were both on duty, and also twenty-eight loyal soldiers, among whom was Forget. All during the day nothing occurred to mar their plans, and Jean hugged himself and chuckled with delight. Night came and all was well. Michonis was at his post in the prisoners' apartments, while his colleagues rested, lounged or played _tric-trac_ in the council-room below. Simon alone was not among them, having been absent from the Tower for several hours. This was looked upon as a favourable omen. At ten o'clock Jean hastened home to the Rue de Lille, donned the costume of a coachman, which, as he was growing wondrously tall and large, did not fit him ill, and leaving Mère Clouet and Yvonne tingling with suppressed excitement, hurried to one of the dark and deserted streets nearby. True to appointment, there stood a carriage driven by a liveried coachman. At the whispered word, "_De Batz_," the man got down, assisted Jean to climb up in his place, promised to be at the same spot two hours hence, and disappeared. Jean drove away, not proceeding straight to the Rue Charlot, but by a wide and devious route that took him first over a large part of that section of Paris. When he entered the Rue Charlot at the appointed time, eleven-thirty, it was quiet and dark.