corner of it. My cousin's house is the twelfth on
the left-hand side. He will be standing at the door. You will say
to him as you pass, It is a dark night,' and he will then let you
in.

"Don't walk as if you were in a hurry: fishermen never do that. It
is not likely that you will meet anyone, but if you do, and he sees
two fishermen hurrying, it will strike him as singular; and when
there came news of two prisoners having escaped, he might mention
the matter, which might lead to a search in the right quarter."

"Will you go first, Ryan, or shall I?" Terence said.

"Just as you like."

"Well, then, you may as well go, as then I can talk with this good
fellow till it is my turn."

Ryan shook the soldier's hand heartily, took hold of the rope,
slung himself over the parapet, and began the descent. Terence and
the soldier leaned over, and watched him until they could no longer
make out the figure with certainty. As soon as the tension on the
rope slackened, Terence grasped Jacques' hand, said a few more
words of thanks, and then followed his companion. As soon as he
reached the ground he shook the rope and, a minute later, it fell
on the ground beside him.

He coiled it up, and then they started down the street. Following
the instructions that they had received, in ten minutes they
reached the end of the lane.

"We were to throw away the rope, were we not?" Ryan said.

"Yes, but now we are here, there can be no use in our doing so. If
a length of rope were found lying in the road, people would wonder
who had thrown it away; besides, it is a good stout piece of new
rope, and may be of use to the fisherman."

Counting the doors carefully as they went along, they came to the
twelfth where, before they reached it, the red glow from a pipe
showed that a man was standing outside.

"It is a dark night, mate," Terence said in a low tone, as he came
up to him.

"That is right," the man replied; "come in."

He stood aside as they entered, closed the door behind them, and
then lifted a piece of old canvas thrown over a lighted lantern.

Chapter 6: Afloat.

Jules Varlin held the lantern above his head, and took a good look
at his visitors.

"You will pass very well for young fishermen, messieurs," he said,
"when you have dirtied your faces and hands a bit, and rubbed your
hair the wrong way, all over your head. Well, come in here. My wife
is waiting up to welcome you. It is her doing that you are here. I
s