ating ourselves on being out of
danger, when all at once the horse struck against a stump, and catching
his hoof in a root on the ground, fell down. Before we were up he had
made off into the darkness, and I could hear him galloping farther and
farther away. As we fell I had caught Edmee in my arms. She was unhurt.
My own ankle, however, was sprained so severely that it was impossible
for me to move a step. Edmee thought that my leg had been broken. I was
inclined to think so myself, so great was the pain; but soon I thought
no further either of my agony or my anxiety. Edmee's tender solicitude
made me forget everything. It was in vain that I urged her to continue
her flight without me. I pointed out that she could now escape alone;
that we were some distance from the chateau; that day would soon
be breaking; that she would be certain to find some house, and that
everywhere the people would protect her against the Mauprats.

"I will not leave you," she persisted in answering. "You have devoted
yourself to me; I will show the same devotion to you. We will both
escape, or we will die together."

"I am not mistaken," I cried; "it is a light that I see between the
branches. Edmee, there is a house yonder; go and knock at the door. You
need not feel anxious about leaving me here; and you will find a guide
to take you home."

"Whatever happens," she said, "I will not leave you; but I will try to
find some one to help you."

"Yet, no," I said, "I will not let you knock at that door alone. That
light, in the middle of the night, in a house situated in the heart of
the woods, may be a lure."

I dragged myself as far as the door. It felt cold, as if of metal. The
walls were covered with ivy.

"Who is there?" cried some one within, before we had knocked.

"We are saved!" cried Edmee; "it is Patience's voice."

"We are lost!" I said; "he and I are mortal enemies.

"Fear nothing," she said; "follow me. It was God that led us here."

"Yes, it was God that led you here, daughter of Heaven, morning star!"
said Patience, opening the door; "and whoever is with you is welcome too
at Gazeau Tower."

We entered under a surbased vault, in the middle of which hung an iron
lamp. By the light of this dismal luminary and of a handful of brushwood
which was blazing on the hearth we saw, not without surprise, that
Gazeau Tower was exceptionally honoured with visitors. On one side the
light fell upon the pale and serious face of a man