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MEMOIRS OF VIDOCQ.

the means of escape was our only theme. Under these circumstances, as in many others, I remarked that with prisoners, the thirst for liberty, becoming the engrossing idea, produced plots inconceivable by the man who discusses them at his ease. Liberty!—in this word all is centered, this thought pursues the prisoner throughout the tedious day, and during the wintry nights spent in utter darkness, when abandoned to all the tormenting impulses of impatience. Enter any prison, you will hear shouts of noisy mirth, you may almost imagine yourself at a place of entertainment; approach—mouths grin horribly a ghastly smile, but the eyes betray no pleasure, they are stern and haggard; this assumed gaiety is forced in its hideous yells, like that of the jackal, which dashes against its cage, striving to burst the bars.

Well knowing what men they had to guard, our jailors watched us with a care that marred all our plans, the only opportunity which gave a chance of success, however, at last offered itself, and I seized on it before my companions, cunning as they were, had even thought of it. We were about eighteen of us in the anti-room of the examining judge, where we had been conducted for the purpose of being interrogated, which was guarded by soldiers and two gendarmes, one of whom had laid down his hat and cloak near me, whilst he went to the bar, whither his companion was also summoned by the ringing of a bell. I put his hat on my head instantly, and wrapping myself in his cloak, took a prisoner under my arm as if I was taking him out for a pressing necessity; I went to the door, which the corporal of the guard immediately opened, and we got out once more. But what could we do without money or papers? My comrade went into the province, and I, at the risk of being retaken, returned to Francine, who, overjoyed at seeing me, determined on selling her furniture, and flying with me to Belgium. This was