l
the rest, that it seemed the stupendous creation of the angels.

"You are cold, petite?" he whispered.

She had shivered and drawn a little closer to him.

"No," replied the girl, glancing around her, "but it is frightful."

"What?"

"Oh, these sombre roofs."

"Bah! petite," he responded lightly, "ghosts don't promenade the roofs
of Paris."

"They'd break their ghostly necks if they did."

"Come! and let us be careful not to break ours. Allons!"

They stole softly along the adjoining wall that ended at a court.
There was clearly no thoroughfare in this direction. Coming back on
the trail he examined the stone attentively, she meanwhile shading the
light with the folds of her dress. It was comparatively easy to note
the recent wear of feet in the time-accumulation of rust and dirt and
dry moss of these old stones. In a few moments he discovered that the
tracks turned off between two high-pitched roofs towards the Pantheon.
As from one of these slopes grinned a double row of dormer-windows, it
seemed incredible that any considerable number of prowlers might long
escape observation.

"But they may be vacant," said the girl, when Jean had suggested the
contingency.

"That is quite true."

So they stealthily crept rather than walked on, the end of the gutter
abutting on another court. The depression was marked here by virgin
moss.

"It is very extraordinary," growled Jean, entirely at a loss to
account for the abrupt close of the trail. There was no way out of
this trough save by climbing over one of these steep roofs, except----

"The window, perhaps," she whispered.

"True!"

Rapidly moving the lamp along the bottom of the gutter, Jean stopped.

"There it is!"

She pointed to the window above them with suppressed excitement.

There were almost imperceptible cleats cleverly laid across the
corrugated tiling; for the roof had a pitch of fifty degrees, and the
casement was half-way up the slope.

"It must be so," he said. "Wait!"

With the lantern concealed beneath his coat he scrambled noiselessly
up and examined the window. It was not fastened. Whoever had passed
here last had come this way. He opened it a little, then wider.

"Come! Quickly!"

Even as he called to her Jean threw open wide the windows,--which
folded from within, like all French windows--and entered, leaving
Mlle. Fouchette to follow at will. That damsel's catlike nature made a
roof a mere playground, and she was almost imme