s of the convent garden, were distinguishable in the midst
of the pale glimmer. Afar off, a street lamp, acted on by the wind, with
its red lights hardly visible through the mist and rain, swung backwards
and forwards over the dirty causeway of the solitary boulevard.

At rare intervals, they heard, at a very great distance, the rattle and
rumble of a coach, returning home late; then all was again silent.

Since their departure from the Rue Brise-Miche, Dagobert and his son had
hardly exchanged a word. The design of these two brave men was noble
and generous, and yet, resolute but pensive, they glided through the
darkness like bandits, at the hour of nocturnal crimes.

Agricola carried on his shoulders the sack containing the cord, the
hook, and the iron bar; Dagobert leaned upon the arm of his son, and
Spoil sport followed his master.

"The bench, where we sat down, must be close by," said Dagobert,
stopping.

"Yes," said Agricola, looking around; "here it is, father."

"It is oily half-past eleven--we must wait for midnight," resumed
Dagobert. "Let us be seated for an instant, to rest ourselves, and
decide upon our plan."

After a moment's silence, the soldier took his son's hands between his
own, and thus continued: "Agricola, my child--it is yet time. Let me
go alone, I entreat you. I shall know very well how to get through the
business; but the nearer the moment comes, the more I fear to drag you
into this dangerous enterprise."

"And the nearer the moment comes, father, the more I feel I may be
of some use; but, be it good or bad, I will share the fortune of your
adventure. Our object is praiseworthy; it is a debt of honor that you
have to pay, and I will take one half of it. Do not fancy that I will
now draw back. And so, dear father, let us think of our plan of action."

"Then you will come?" said Dagobert, stifling a sigh.

"We must do everything," proceeded Agricola, "to secure success. You
have already noticed the little garden-door, near the angle of the
wall--that is excellent."

"We shall get by that way into the garden, and look immediately for the
open paling."

"Yes; for on one side of this paling is the wing inhabited by Mdlle.
de Cardoville, and on the other that part of the convent in which the
general's daughters are confined."

At this moment, Spoil-sport, who was crouching at Dagobert's feet, rose
suddenly, and pricked up his ears, as if to listen.

"One would think that Spoil-spo