"On the morning of the day before, these noises now and then shook down small fragments of stone, to our great alarm. Once the thief said, ’If only a nice little house would drop down, and we could just go up-stairs and walk out.’ In fact, many houses had thus fallen into these caves, and it was by no means an impossible thing. It served to season our fears with a laugh; but since then the constant silence had made us hope we were going out into the suburbs and toward some opening. Alas! it came not, and now when our thief left us we were so dispirited that for a time no one said a word of his sudden departure. Then the Duke, seeming to understand how we felt, said, ’He will come back soon’; and my mother, whose sweet hopefulness was sapped by this long fatigue, answered, ’Or perhaps he will not. God knows.’ Even I, a lad, heard her with astonishment, because she was one who never doubted that all things would come out right, and all people would do what they should. "I liked our thief, and when an hour went by, and there was borne in on me the idea that he had deserted us, I burst into tears. Just as my mother drew me to her, saying, ’Do not cry, my boy. God will take care of us,’ I heard our thief, beside me, cry cheerily, ’This way, Madame. I will show you the light of day.’ As we heard him we all leaped up. He cried out, ’This way, and now to the left, Monsieur le Duc; and now this way,’ and so through several alleys until he paused and said, ’See! The light of day,’ and certainly there was, a little way off, a pale reflection against the gray stone wall beyond us. "’I thought,’ said our thief, ’that as we turned into the _impasse_ I felt a current of air. I was not sure enough to speak, and I went just now to see whence it came. We have gone under the Luxembourg or perhaps Val-de-Grâce, and past the barrier.’ Then he explained that this cross-passage, whence came the light, was short and tortuous, and was partly blocked by debris; that it opened into a disused quarry; and that it was beyond the city barrier. Upon this, it seemed needful to think over what was best to be done when once we were out; but my mother cried, ’Wait a little,’ and knelt down, as we all did, and said aloud a sweet and thankful prayer for our safety, and concerning the thief God had so strangely sent to help us in our extremity.