He went up with her to the attic and looked out at the wall. The lane was only some twelve feet across, and he was convinced that he could leap it without difficulty. He emptied his box and repacked it, selecting chiefly articles which would take up the smallest amount of room. He made quite sure how he could best climb from the window to the roof above it, then he waited with what patience he could until it was absolutely dark. When he was ready to start he fastened the rope firmly round the box and said good-bye to Marie. His last words were: “I will do my very best for Lucien, and when the war is over I will send you a gold watch to wear at your wedding.” Then he got upon the window-sill, with the end of the rope tied round his waist, and with some little difficulty climbed to the roof of the house, and when he had got his breath began to pull at the rope and hoisted up the box. He had, before starting, put on the disguise Marie had bought for him, and handed her the remains of his uniform, telling her to burn it at once, and to hide away the buttons for the present, and throw them away the first time she left the town. “There will be a strict search,” he said, “for any signs of me, and those buttons would certainly betray you if they were found.” When he got the box up he listened attentively for a little, and as, to his great joy, he could not hear the footsteps of a sentinel, he threw it on to the wall and jumped after it. He landed on his feet, and, picking up the box, ran along the wall till he came to a gun. He tied the end of the rope round this and slipped down. Then without a moment’s delay he slung the box over his shoulder and walked away. He had two or three outworks to pass, but luckily there were no guards, so he made his way through them without difficulty. All night he tramped on, and by morning was forty miles away from Verdun. He did not want to begin to ply his assumed trade till he was still farther away, so he lay down to sleep in a large wood. He had saved from his rations during the week a certain amount of bread, and he had bought a couple of loaves while wandering with his wares through the town. He slept for the best part of the day, and started again at night. Beyond making sure that he was going west he paid but little attention to the roads he followed, but, keeping steadily in that direction, he put another forty miles between him and Verdun by the following morning. Then after a few hours’ sleep he boldly went into a village and entered an inn. “You are a pedlar,” the landlord said, “are you not?” “Yes,” he said, “I am selling wares manufactured by the prisoners at Verdun.” The news spread and the villagers flocked in to look at these curiosities. “I bought them at a low price, and will sell at the same. They could not be made by ordinary labour at ten times the price I charge for them.” The bait took, and soon a good many small articles were sold. Two hours later he again started on his way.