gave no answer, but burst into tears. How could
she tell him that she herself must presently leave--for marriage or a
convent?

Next day, Fabrice, by his gaoler's connivance, received a long letter
from Clelia. She urged him to escape, declaring that at any time the
Prince might order his execution, and in addition that he was in danger
of death by poison. Straightway he sought an interview with Clelia, with
whom he had not hitherto conversed save by signals from their windows.
The gaoler arranged that they should meet when Fabrice was being
conducted from his cell to the roof of the Farnese tower, where he was
occasionally allowed to take exercise.

"I can speak but few words to you," she said trembling, with tears in
her eyes. "Swear that you will obey the Duchess, and escape when she
wishes and as she wishes."

"And condemn myself to live far away from her whom I love?"

"Swear it! for my sake, swear it!" she implored hint.

"Well then, I swear it!"

The preparations were quickly advanced. Three knotted ropes were
smuggled with Clelia's aid into Fabrice's cell--one for descending the
35 feet between his window and the roof of the citadel; another for
descending the tremendous wall of 180 feet between the roof and the
ramparts; a third for the 30 feet between the top of the ramparts and
the ground.

A feast-day, when the garrison of the citadel would presumably be drunk,
was chosen for the attempt. Fabrice spent the time of waiting in cutting
a hole in his shutter large enough to enable him to get through.
Fortunately, on the night of the feast-day a thick fog arose and
enveloped the citadel. The Duchess had seen to it that the garrison was
plentifully supplied with wine.

Fabrice attached one of the shorter ropes to his bed, and struggled
through the shutter--an ungainly figure, for round his body was wound
the immense rope necessary for the long descent. Once on the
roof-platform he made his way along the parapet until he came to a new
stove which he had been told marked the best spot for lowering the rope.
He could hear the soldiers talking near at hand, but the fog made him
invisible. Unrolling his rope, and fastening his rope to the parapet by
threading it through a water-duct, he flung it over; then, with a prayer
and a thought of Clelia, he began to descend.

At first he went down mechanically, as if doing the feat for a wager.
About half-way down, his arms seemed to lose their strength; he nearly
l