ience
and our honor! But now," he added, "two words with my good Mother Bunch.
It grows late, and time presses. On entering the garden, did you remark
if the windows of the convent were far from the ground?"

"No, not very far, M. Dagobert--particularly on that side which is
opposite to the madhouse, where Mdlle. de Cardoville is confined."

"How did you manage to speak to that young lady?"

"She was on the other side of an open paling, which separates the two
gardens."

"Excellent!" said Agricola, as he continued to hammer the iron: "we can
easily pass from one garden to the other. The madhouse may perhaps
be the readier way out. Unfortunately, you do not know, Mdlle. de
Cardoville's chamber."

"Yes, I do," returned the work-girl, recollecting herself. "She is
lodged in one of the wings, and there is a shade over her window,
painted like canvas, with blue and white stripes."

"Good! I shall not forget that."

"And can you form no guess as to where are the rooms of my poor
children?" said Dagobert.

After a moment's reflection, Mother Bunch answered, "They are opposite
to the chamber occupied by Mdlle. de Cardoville, for she makes signs
to them from her window: and I now remember she told me, that their two
rooms are on different stories, one on the ground-floor, and the other
up one pair of stairs."

"Are these windows grated?" asked the smith.

"I do not know."

"Never mind, my good girl: with these indications we shall do very
well," said Dagobert. "For the rest, I have my plans."

"Some water, my little sister," said Agricola, "that I may cool my
iron." Then addressing his father: "Will this hook do?"

"Yes, my boy; as soon as it is cold we will fasten the cord."

For some time, Frances Baudoin had remained upon her knees, praying with
fervor. She implored Heaven to have pity on Agricola and Dagobert,
who, in their ignorance, were about to commit a great crime; and she
entreated that the celestial vengeance might fall upon her only, as she
alone had been the cause of the fatal resolution of her son and husband.

Dagobert and Agricola finished their preparations in silence. They
were both very pale, and solemnly grave. They felt all the danger of so
desperate an enterprise.

The clock at Saint-Mery's struck ten. The sound of the bell was faint,
and almost drowned by the lashing of the wind and rain, which had not
ceased for a moment.

"Ten o'clock!" said Dagobert, with a start. "There is not a m