“You will have to leave with us now, Pierre,” said Gerard. “Pray Heaven we are as lucky at the next gate,” he answered, and again went on ahead. Fortune was with them at the next gate. The sentry was asleep, and Pierre opened the gate and let them through. “Naught but luck put the sot Crateau on guard to-night of all nights,” he said. “If the Governor hears of it his head will ache no more with liquor. There is but one more gate, my lord, and there we may have trouble; but once passed, a few steps only remain till we reach the courtyard.” They continued the descent as rapidly as practicable until Pierre stopped them. “I think you had better come on with me, monsieur,” he said to Dubois; “and leave my lord and mademoiselle to follow when we have seen the way is clear.” The two went down together, and Gerard felt in the darkness for Gabrielle’s hand. “You are not frightened, Gabrielle?” he whispered. “I am with you,” she answered, pressing to his side. “You are trembling, sweetheart.” “It is for you, dearest. If we were but free of this dreadful place!” “Courage, dear one; all will come right.” “Pray God it may,” she said fervently. “What peril I have caused you.” “Nay, it is I who have brought you to this pass. But you may trust Dubois to carry us through.” “It is you I trust, Gerard. Ah! something is happening!” Pierre was right in anticipating trouble. As they neared the gate they heard the voices of several men. “Assembling for the change of guard, monsieur,” he whispered to Dubois. “They will let me pass, and I shall say you are one of the new officers who joined the Castle force recently.” “I am one, Pierre.” “I thought as much,” was the pithy reply. “Some of your men may be amongst them. But I know not what to do.” “Put a bold face on it and leave it to me,” said Dubois; and the next moment they found themselves among half a dozen men clustered by the gate. “It is a fine prison, friend Pierre, but I don’t envy you your warding,” said Dubois aloud, in an easy tone, as he reached the bottom. “And these men, who are they--the guard?” At the sound of his voice the soldiers looked round, and two of them drew themselves up instantly and saluted. With intense satisfaction Dubois recognized them as his own men, returned the salute, and addressed them. “On guard, Vauchamp, and you, Dentelle, learning your new duties? Good. Open the gate, Pierre.” “Who is this, Pierre?” demanded the sergeant in command. “What, don’t you know your own officers, Vauban?” returned Pierre, in a surly tone. “Out of the way and let me obey my orders.” “Not so fast, surly-tongue,” growled the man angrily. “No one passes here.” “Surly-tongue yourself, you uncivil beast,” returned Pierre, and as if with sudden passion, he dealt him a blow on the head which sent him reeling to one side, and thrust the key in the lock.