limb the sheer wall of granite seemed
impossible; a mouse might as well try to creep up the slippery sides of
a plain china vase. Still there was a cleft, a straight line of fissure
so fortunately placed that large blocks of wood could be wedged firmly
into it at a distance of about a foot apart. Into these blocks the
daring workers drove iron cramps, specially made for the purpose, with
a broad iron bracket at the outer end, through which a hole had been
drilled. Each bracket carried a light deal board which corresponded with
a notch made in a pole that reached to the top of the cliffs, and was
firmly planted in the beach at their feet. With ingenuity worthy of
these men who found nothing impossible, one of their number, a skilled
mathematician, had calculated the angle from which the steps must start;
so that from the middle they rose gradually, like the sticks of a fan,
to the top of the cliff, and descended in the same fashion to its
base. That miraculously light, yet perfectly firm, staircase cost them
twenty-two days of toil. A little tinder and the surf of the sea would
destroy all trace of it forever in a single night. A betrayal of the
secret was impossible; and all search for the violators of the convent
was doomed to failure.

At the top of the rock there was a platform with sheer precipice on all
sides. The Thirteen, reconnoitring the ground with their glasses from
the masthead, made certain that though the ascent was steep and rough,
there would be no difficulty in gaining the convent garden, where the
trees were thick enough for a hiding-place. After such great efforts
they would not risk the success of their enterprise, and were compelled
to wait till the moon passed out of her last quarter.

For two nights Montriveau, wrapped in his cloak, lay out on the rock
platform. The singing at vespers and matins filled him with unutterable
joy. He stood under the wall to hear the music of the organ, listening
intently for one voice among the rest. But in spite of the silence, the
confused effect of music was all that reached his ears. In those sweet
harmonies defects of execution are lost; the pure spirit of art comes
into direct communication with the spirit of the hearer, making
no demand on the attention, no strain on the power of listening.
Intolerable memories awoke. All the love within him seemed to break into
blossom again at the breath of that music; he tried to find auguries of
happiness in the air. Duri