rrible effort; not without torn and bleeding hands and
knees.

But he had succeeded in obtaining the rope, and now he was certain
that he could make his escape from his dangerous position. He laughed
gleefully, or rather with that chuckle which was habitual to him.

Anxiety, then joy, had made him forget M. d'Escorval. At the thought of
him, he was smitten with remorse.

"Poor man!" he murmured. "I shall succeed in saving my miserable life,
for which no one cares, but I was unable to save him. Undoubtedly, by
this time his friends have carried him away."

As he uttered these words he was leaning over the abyss. He doubted the
evidence of his own senses when he saw a faint light moving here and
there in the depths below.

What had happened? For something very extraordinary must have happened
to induce intelligent men like the baron's friends to display this
light, which, if observed from the citadel, would betray their presence
and ruin them.

But Corporal Bavois's moments were too precious to be wasted in idle
conjectures.

"Better go down on the double-quick," he said aloud, as if to spur on
his courage. "Come, my friend, spit on your hands and be off!"

As he spoke the old soldier threw himself flat on his belly and crawled
slowly backward to the verge of the precipice. The spirit was strong,
but the flesh shuddered. To march upon a battery had always been a mere
pastime to the worthy corporal; but to face an unknown peril, to suspend
one's life upon a cord, was a different matter.

Great drops of perspiration, caused by the horror of his situation,
stood out upon his brow when he felt that half his body had passed the
edge of the precipice, and that the slightest movement would now launch
him into space.

He made this movement, murmuring:

"If there is a God who watches over honest people let Him open His eyes
this instant!"

The God of the just was watching.

Bavois arrived at the end of his dangerous journey with torn and
bleeding hands, but safe. He fell like a mass of rock; and the rudeness
of the shock drew from him a groan resembling the roar of an infuriated
beast.

For more than a minute he lay there upon the ground stunned and dizzy.

When he rose two men seized him roughly.

"Ah, no foolishness," he said quickly. "It is I, Bavois."

This did not cause them to relax their hold.

"How does it happen," demanded one, in a threatening tone, "that Baron
d'Escorval falls and you succeed in