ness, and whose senses, continually in action,
were acute as those of a savage, saw Corentin; like a trained dog he had
scented him. Fouche's diplomatist listened but heard nothing; he looked
at the natural wall of rock and saw no signs. If the confusing gleam of
the fog enabled him to see, here and there, a crouching Chouan, he took
him, no doubt, for a fragment of rock, for these human bodies had all
the appearance of inert nature. This danger to the invaders was of short
duration. Corentin's attention was diverted by a very distinct noise
coming from the other end of the Promenade, where the rock wall ended
and a steep descent leading down to the Queen's Staircase began. When
Corentin reached the spot he saw a figure gliding past it as if by
magic. Putting out his hand to grasp this real or fantastic being, who
was there, he supposed, with no good intentions, he encountered the soft
and rounded figure of a woman.

"The devil take you!" he exclaimed, "if any one else had met you, you'd
have had a ball through your head. What are you doing, and where are you
going, at this time of night? Are you dumb? It certainly is a woman," he
said to himself.

The silence was suspicious, but the stranger broke it by saying, in a
voice which suggested extreme fright, "Ah, my good man, I'm on my way
back from a wake."

"It is the pretended mother of the marquis," thought Corentin. "I'll see
what she's about. Well, go that way, old woman," he replied, feigning
not to recognize her. "Keep to the left if you don't want to be shot."

He stood quite still; then observing that Madame du Gua was making
for the Papegaut tower, he followed her at a distance with diabolical
caution. During this fatal encounter the Chouans had posted themselves
on the manure towards which Marche-a-Terre had guided them.

"There's the Grande-Garce!" thought Marche-a-Terre, as he rose to his
feet against the tower wall like a bear.

"We are here," he said to her in a low voice.

"Good," she replied, "there's a ladder in the garden of that house about
six feet above the manure; find it, and the Gars is saved. Do you see
that small window up there? It is in the dressing-room; you must get to
it. This side of the tower is the only one not watched. The horses are
ready; if you can hold the passage over the Nancon, a quarter of an hour
will put him out of danger--in spite of his folly. But if that woman
tries to follow him, stab her."

Corentin now saw severa