Part 68 (1/2)

”You have your instructions, Corporal, keep a close watch. If the prisoner needs anything, call.”

M. de Escorval's heart throbbed almost to bursting. What was coming now?

Had M. de Courtornieu's counsels carried the day, or had Martial sent someone to aid him?

”We must not be dawdling here,” said the corporal, as soon as the door was closed.

M. d'Escorval bounded from his chair. This man was a friend. Here was aid and life.

”I am Bavois,” continued the corporal. ”Someone said to me just now: 'A friend of the Emperor is in danger; are you willing to lend him a helping hand?' I replied: 'Present,' and here I am!”

This certainly was a brave soul. The baron extended his hand, and in a voice trembling with emotion:

”Thanks,” said he; ”thanks to you who, without knowing me, expose yourself to the greatest danger for my sake.”

Bavois shrugged his shoulders disdainfully.

”Positively, my old hide is no more precious than yours. If we do not succeed, they will chop off our heads with the same axe. But we shall succeed. Now, let us cease talking and proceed to business.”

As he spoke he drew from beneath his long overcoat a strong iron crowbar and a small vial of brandy, and deposited them upon the bed.

He then took the candle and pa.s.sed it back and forth before the window five or six times.

”What are you doing?” inquired the baron, in suspense.

”I am signalling to your friends that everything is progressing favorably. They are down there waiting for us; and see, now they are answering.”

The baron looked, and three times they saw a little flash of flame like that produced by the burning of a pinch of gunpowder.

”Now,” said the corporal, ”we are all right. Let us see what progress you have made with the bars.”

”I have scarcely begun,” murmured M. d'Escorval.

The corporal inspected the work.

”You may indeed say that you have made no progress,” said he; ”but, never mind, I have been a locksmith, and I know how to handle a file.”

Having drawn the cork from the vial of brandy which he had brought, he fastened the stopper to the end of one of the files, and swathed the handle of the instrument with a piece of damp linen.

”That is what they call putting a _stop_ on the instrument,” he remarked, by way of explanation.

Then he made an energetic attack on the bars. It at once became evident that he had not exaggerated his knowledge of the subject, nor the efficacy of his precautions for deadening the sound. The harsh grating that had so alarmed the baron was no longer heard, and Bavois, finding he had nothing more to dread from the keenest ears, now made preparations to shelter himself from observation.

To cover the opening in the door would arouse suspicion at once--so the corporal adopted another expedient.

Moving the little table to another part of the room, he placed the light upon it, in such a position that the window remained entirely in shadow.

Then he ordered the baron to sit down, and handing him a paper, said:

”Now read aloud, without stopping for an instant, until you see me cease work.”