went up the steps. Then, by the tightening of his hand,
Valensolle knew he was making an effort. Presently a stone was raised,
and through the opening a trembling gleam of twilight met the eyes of
the young men, and a fragrant aromatic odor came to comfort their sense
of smell after the mephitic atmosphere of the vaults.

"Ah!" cried Valensolle, "we are in a barn; I prefer that."

Morgan did not answer; he helped his companion to climb out of the
vault, and then let the stone drop back in its place.

Valensolle looked about him. He was in the midst of a vast building
filled with hay, into which the light filtered through windows of such
exquisite form that they certainly could not be those of a barn.

"Why!" said Valensolle, "we are not in a barn!"

"Climb up the hay and sit down near that window," replied Morgan.

Valensolle obeyed and scrambled up the hay like a schoolboy in his
holidays; then he sat down, as Morgan had told him, before a window. The
next moment Morgan placed between his friend's legs a napkin containing
a pate, bread, a bottle of wine, two glasses, two knives and two forks.

"The deuce!" cried Valensolle, "'Lucullus sups with Lucullus.'"

Then gazing through the panes at a building with numberless windows,
which seemed to be a wing of the one they were in, and before which a
sentry was pacing, he exclaimed: "Positively, I can't eat my supper till
I know where we are. What is this building? And why that sentry at the
door?"

"Well," said Morgan, "since you absolutely must know, I will tell
you. We are in the church of Brou, which was converted into a fodder
storehouse by a decree of the Municipal Council. That adjoining building
is now the barracks of the gendarmerie, and that sentry is posted to
prevent any one from disturbing our supper or surprising us while we
sleep."

"Brave fellows," said Valensolle, filling his glass; "their health,
Morgan!"

"And ours!" said the young man, laughing; "the devil take me if any one
could dream of finding us here."

Morgan had hardly drained his glass, when, as if the devil had accepted
the challenge, the sentinel's harsh, strident voice cried: "_Qui vive!_"

"Hey!" exclaimed the two young men, "what does this mean?"

A body of thirty men came from the direction of Pont d'Ain, and, after
giving the countersign to the sentry, at once dispersed; the larger
number, led by two men, who seemed to be officers, entered the barracks;
the others continued