A/N: Ach, sorry it took so long to update. District Assessments in 4
classes, what a mess. Anyway, here it is finally! Pamplemousse, here's
your 'Toile cameo! :-)
=========
Ariadne managed to keep up the image of being outwardly calm the whole rambling trip. Inside, of course, she was quite close to breaking down. The mail car was almost silent the whole way, save for the low hum of the men's voices. She didn't catch much, unwilling to hear more about the murder they had committed. Every so often the mail car would stop and they could hear the driver get out. During these times, Ariadne would look discreetly out the window and wonder how far she would get if she flung open the door and ran for dear life.
Then she would remember that she had no idea where she was, and that Mathieu still had a firm grip on her wrist.
Late into the night, the mail car finally stopped, and the driver rapped on the wall. "Your stop," he said.
Christophe poked his head out the window and then opened the door, climbing out. Chaumérey went next, pulling a coin from his pocket and handing it up to the driver. Guichard and Mathieu followed, the latter pulling a frightened Ariadne with him.
Ariadne had barely a chance to look around before Mathieu started yanking her away. They were somewhere close to the sea, she could smell the salt in the air. It was a dark and terribly frightening place. She had never seen Paris by night, and had to wonder if it was half as bad as this place.
Chaumérey was in the lead of the pack. He led them around to an alleyway. Christophe hung back and waited for the others to go through; he looked around furtively before joining them.
Ariadne could feel herself trembling as they made their way through the dark alley. There were several beggars lying about, crouched in the gutters. Three prostitutes stood huddled together, cooing to the men as they passed. Chaumérey tossed them a wink but did not stop walking.
After what seemed forever, they came to the end of the alleyway. Chaumérey, in the lead, motioned for them to stop and keep silent. He went to the corner and peered out cautiously into the open street. Then he gestured for the others to follow.
They stepped out into the street and started making their way across the square.
"Stop!"
The four crooks stopped dead and looked around. Ariadne gave a quiet whimper and moved closer to Mathieu.
"You're under arrest!"
"Gendarmes," Chaumérey hissed, pulling out his pistol.
"Put down the gun and you won't be harmed!" the voice on the loud-hailer said. They were surrounded, Mathieu deduced as he looked around.
"You won't get us!" Christophe shouted suddenly, pulling out his pistol and firing into the air. The action made Ariadne scream. "Long live Patron-Minette!"
The gendarmes replied with gunfire. Christophe fell back and dropped his gun. Chaumérey looked around. "Get out of here! Leave the girl!" he shouted. He and Guichard took off in one direction, and Mathieu in another.
Ariadne wasn't alone for long; she started running after him and tripped. She fell hard, tasting blood and feeling a terrible pain in her arm. The gendarmes started to gather around her, calling instructions to one another. She looked up at them and managed to mutter a weak "Help." before blacking out.
~*~
When next she woke, Ariadne's head was pounding as if she had smashed it into a glass window. She sat up painfully and groaned. Her bed was unusually hard today. She would have to ask Virginie to turn the bedding...
Ariadne opened her eyes and looked around. It took her a moment to realize that she was /not/ where she thought she had been. She was in a jail cell.
She made to stand up and gasped as a pain flared in her arm. She sat down again and looked-her forearm was bandaged and blood had started to soak through. Why had happened? Where was Mathieu?
Then it all came back-the trip in the mail car, the gendarmes swarming around them...the gunshots...
Her head began to swim and she forced herself to her feet, stumbling toward the bars of the cell. Across the room she could see a policeman, reclined in a chair with his boots up on his desk.
"Monsieur!" she said desperately, clutching the bars. This was a mistake, she didn't belong in that jail cell. The policeman looked over, rising to his feet and moving in a condescending way toward her.
"Well, mad'moiselle. Mind telling me why you've found a pretty thing like yourself in a jail cell tonight?" he said, stopping about five feet away. He was a captain.
Ariadne shook her head. "I have no idea why I am here...I don't even know where /here/ is, monsieur."
"You're in Montreuil-sur-Mer, girlie. I think that should be enough for you, until you start explaining things to me." He looked at her for a very long time. "You remind me of someone who came in here once. A whore, she got arrested for attacking a gentleman. Looked just like you." He remarked.
Ariadne clung to the bars. "But I'm not a whore, and I didn't attack anyone. This is just a mistake, Monsieur."
He wasn't paying any attention. "What was her name? Fan.something. Ah, I don't remember. Inspector Javert would know. I remember that year. My first year here."
"Where is Inspector Javert? Ask him, perhaps." Ariadne suggested.
"Oh, he doesn't work here anymore. He died during that June inssurection. The one in Paris, you know? Ah, I bet you weren't even born yet. Suicide, they told us. Not surprised, to tell the truth. Him and his wife and daughter, not a sane one among the lot of them."
"The insurrection? My father was there-at the barricades, do you remember those? He was there, he could tell you!"
"But this isn't 1832 and your father isn't here. And I don't care if he was at the barricades with all those stupid rebels, because there isn't here. And here is where you are, and you're the one behind the bars."
Ariadne gaped for a moment. "Please! Please, monsieur. I haven't done anything wrong, I swear it on my own life!"
The captain leaned a hand on the bars. "Then why were you caught with Patron-Minette?" he asked quietly.
Ariadne fell silent. "Patron-Minette?" she echoed. The man nodded his head. "I didn't know-but-I didn't know, monsieur!"
"We found the boy and brought him back here just before he died. He said you had come along with them since Paris."
"Christophe?" Ariadne said. Then she mentally kicked herself, for surely she would look more suspicious if she knew their names.
The captain raised his eyebrows, as though he had realized the same thing. "Was that his name?"
Ariadne closed her eyes and felt the tears well up behind the lids. She had no idea where she was-Montreuil-sur-Mer meant nothing to her-and she was in jail, Mathieu was probably dead somewhere, and her parents had no idea she was even gone. She had no idea what she was going to do. They could find her guilty and hang her, for all she knew.
"Listen, mad'moiselle. You come up with a logical story as to why you were found in the company of Patron-Minette, and mayhaps I'll listen to it. Until then, have a seat."
Ariadne looked up at him pleadingly, but he turned and walked away. She closed her eyes again and leaned her forehead against the bars, cool against her skin. It was hopeless.
=========
Ariadne managed to keep up the image of being outwardly calm the whole rambling trip. Inside, of course, she was quite close to breaking down. The mail car was almost silent the whole way, save for the low hum of the men's voices. She didn't catch much, unwilling to hear more about the murder they had committed. Every so often the mail car would stop and they could hear the driver get out. During these times, Ariadne would look discreetly out the window and wonder how far she would get if she flung open the door and ran for dear life.
Then she would remember that she had no idea where she was, and that Mathieu still had a firm grip on her wrist.
Late into the night, the mail car finally stopped, and the driver rapped on the wall. "Your stop," he said.
Christophe poked his head out the window and then opened the door, climbing out. Chaumérey went next, pulling a coin from his pocket and handing it up to the driver. Guichard and Mathieu followed, the latter pulling a frightened Ariadne with him.
Ariadne had barely a chance to look around before Mathieu started yanking her away. They were somewhere close to the sea, she could smell the salt in the air. It was a dark and terribly frightening place. She had never seen Paris by night, and had to wonder if it was half as bad as this place.
Chaumérey was in the lead of the pack. He led them around to an alleyway. Christophe hung back and waited for the others to go through; he looked around furtively before joining them.
Ariadne could feel herself trembling as they made their way through the dark alley. There were several beggars lying about, crouched in the gutters. Three prostitutes stood huddled together, cooing to the men as they passed. Chaumérey tossed them a wink but did not stop walking.
After what seemed forever, they came to the end of the alleyway. Chaumérey, in the lead, motioned for them to stop and keep silent. He went to the corner and peered out cautiously into the open street. Then he gestured for the others to follow.
They stepped out into the street and started making their way across the square.
"Stop!"
The four crooks stopped dead and looked around. Ariadne gave a quiet whimper and moved closer to Mathieu.
"You're under arrest!"
"Gendarmes," Chaumérey hissed, pulling out his pistol.
"Put down the gun and you won't be harmed!" the voice on the loud-hailer said. They were surrounded, Mathieu deduced as he looked around.
"You won't get us!" Christophe shouted suddenly, pulling out his pistol and firing into the air. The action made Ariadne scream. "Long live Patron-Minette!"
The gendarmes replied with gunfire. Christophe fell back and dropped his gun. Chaumérey looked around. "Get out of here! Leave the girl!" he shouted. He and Guichard took off in one direction, and Mathieu in another.
Ariadne wasn't alone for long; she started running after him and tripped. She fell hard, tasting blood and feeling a terrible pain in her arm. The gendarmes started to gather around her, calling instructions to one another. She looked up at them and managed to mutter a weak "Help." before blacking out.
~*~
When next she woke, Ariadne's head was pounding as if she had smashed it into a glass window. She sat up painfully and groaned. Her bed was unusually hard today. She would have to ask Virginie to turn the bedding...
Ariadne opened her eyes and looked around. It took her a moment to realize that she was /not/ where she thought she had been. She was in a jail cell.
She made to stand up and gasped as a pain flared in her arm. She sat down again and looked-her forearm was bandaged and blood had started to soak through. Why had happened? Where was Mathieu?
Then it all came back-the trip in the mail car, the gendarmes swarming around them...the gunshots...
Her head began to swim and she forced herself to her feet, stumbling toward the bars of the cell. Across the room she could see a policeman, reclined in a chair with his boots up on his desk.
"Monsieur!" she said desperately, clutching the bars. This was a mistake, she didn't belong in that jail cell. The policeman looked over, rising to his feet and moving in a condescending way toward her.
"Well, mad'moiselle. Mind telling me why you've found a pretty thing like yourself in a jail cell tonight?" he said, stopping about five feet away. He was a captain.
Ariadne shook her head. "I have no idea why I am here...I don't even know where /here/ is, monsieur."
"You're in Montreuil-sur-Mer, girlie. I think that should be enough for you, until you start explaining things to me." He looked at her for a very long time. "You remind me of someone who came in here once. A whore, she got arrested for attacking a gentleman. Looked just like you." He remarked.
Ariadne clung to the bars. "But I'm not a whore, and I didn't attack anyone. This is just a mistake, Monsieur."
He wasn't paying any attention. "What was her name? Fan.something. Ah, I don't remember. Inspector Javert would know. I remember that year. My first year here."
"Where is Inspector Javert? Ask him, perhaps." Ariadne suggested.
"Oh, he doesn't work here anymore. He died during that June inssurection. The one in Paris, you know? Ah, I bet you weren't even born yet. Suicide, they told us. Not surprised, to tell the truth. Him and his wife and daughter, not a sane one among the lot of them."
"The insurrection? My father was there-at the barricades, do you remember those? He was there, he could tell you!"
"But this isn't 1832 and your father isn't here. And I don't care if he was at the barricades with all those stupid rebels, because there isn't here. And here is where you are, and you're the one behind the bars."
Ariadne gaped for a moment. "Please! Please, monsieur. I haven't done anything wrong, I swear it on my own life!"
The captain leaned a hand on the bars. "Then why were you caught with Patron-Minette?" he asked quietly.
Ariadne fell silent. "Patron-Minette?" she echoed. The man nodded his head. "I didn't know-but-I didn't know, monsieur!"
"We found the boy and brought him back here just before he died. He said you had come along with them since Paris."
"Christophe?" Ariadne said. Then she mentally kicked herself, for surely she would look more suspicious if she knew their names.
The captain raised his eyebrows, as though he had realized the same thing. "Was that his name?"
Ariadne closed her eyes and felt the tears well up behind the lids. She had no idea where she was-Montreuil-sur-Mer meant nothing to her-and she was in jail, Mathieu was probably dead somewhere, and her parents had no idea she was even gone. She had no idea what she was going to do. They could find her guilty and hang her, for all she knew.
"Listen, mad'moiselle. You come up with a logical story as to why you were found in the company of Patron-Minette, and mayhaps I'll listen to it. Until then, have a seat."
Ariadne looked up at him pleadingly, but he turned and walked away. She closed her eyes again and leaned her forehead against the bars, cool against her skin. It was hopeless.