ezers' face.
"Get up, boy!" he snarled, "I wrote to Mademoiselle what I would do,
and that I shall do! A Bezers keeps his word. By the God above us--if
there be a God, and in the devil's name I doubt it to-night!--I shall
keep mine! Go!"

His great face was full of rage. He looked over Croisette's head as he
spoke, as if appealing to the Great Registrar of his vow, in the very
moment in which he all but denied Him. I turned and stole back the way
I had come; and heard Croisette follow.

That little scene completed my misery. After that I seemed to take no
heed of anything or anybody until I was aroused by the grating of our
gaoler's key in the lock, and became aware that he was gone, and that
we were alone in a small room under the tiles. He had left the candle
on the floor, and we three stood round it. Save for the long shadows we
cast on the walls and two pallets hastily thrown down in one corner,
the place was empty. I did not look much at it, and I would not look
at the others. I flung myself on one of the pallets and turned my face
to the wall, despairing. I thought bitterly of the failure we had made
of it, and of the Vidame's triumph. I cursed St. Croix especially for
that last touch of humiliation he had set to it. Then, forgetting
myself as my anger abated, I thought of Kit so far away at Caylus--of
Kit's pale, gentle face, and her sorrow. And little by little I
forgave Croisette. After all he had not begged for us--he had not
stooped for our sakes, but for hers.

I do not know how long I lay at see-saw between these two moods. Or
whether during that time the others talked or were silent, moved about
the room or lay still. But it was Croisette's hand on my shoulder,
touching me with a quivering eagerness that instantly communicated
itself to my limbs, which recalled me to the room and its shadows.
"Anne!" he cried. "Anne! Are you awake?"

"What is it?" I said, sitting up and looking at him.

"Marie," he began, "has--"

But there was no need for him to finish. I saw that Marie was standing
at the far side of the room by the unglazed window; which, being in a
sloping part of the roof, inclined slightly also. He had raised the
shutter which closed it, and on his tip-toes--for the sill was almost
his own height from the floor--was peering out. I looked sharply at
Croisette. "Is there a gutter outside?" I whispered, beginning to
tingle all over as the thought of escape for the first ti