"Why, I do not know," replied the portress, still sturdily setting her face against their passage; "there was another person waiting on the outside to show you the way, till just a minute ago. Where he's gone, I don't know, but he seemed the fitter person of the two, for he was an ecclesiastic. I have heard, too, of some one being confined up above, by Monsieur Villequier's orders, and as the rector's court belongs to him, they say I must take care what I am about; so I'll just ring the bell and inquire." "I will save you the trouble of doing that, my good lady," replied Charles of Montsoreau; and stepping quietly forward, he put her gently but powerfully back with his left hand, while with his right he turned the key in the great lock of the wicket, and threw it open. The portress made a movement of her hand to the bell; but then thinking better of it, did not ring; and Marie and her lover, without further opposition, passed at once into the streets of Paris. There were very few people in the Rue St. Denis, but on looking up and down on either side, there were seen a party of horsemen, apparently halted, at the farther end of the street, on the side nearest to the country, and a number of persons farther down, passing and repassing along one of the cross streets. Some way farther up, between the fugitives and the party of horsemen we have mentioned, were two figures, one of which was evidently dressed in the robes of an ecclesiastic, and both gazing down towards the convent, as if watching for the appearance of some one. The moment the young Count and Marie de Clairvaut appeared, the two figures walked on rapidly in a different direction, and were lost immediately to their sight by turning down another street. There was nothing apparent that could alarm the fugitives in any degree, and though distant shouts and cries were borne upon the air, yet the sound of musketry had ceased, which gave greater courage to Marie de Clairvaut. She needed indeed some mitigation of her apprehensions, for the success which she met with in rescuing her lover had been far from increasing her courage in the same proportion that it had been diminished by the very agitation she had gone through. Drawing the thick veil over her face, and as far as possible over her person, she clung to Charles's arm, and hurried on with him, directing him as far as her recollection of the city of Paris would serve. It was long, however, since she had seen it; and although the general direction which she took was certainly right, yet many a turning did she unnecessarily take by the way. Still, however, they hurried on, till turning suddenly into one of the small streets which led round into the Rue St. Honoré itself, the scene of fierce contention which was going on in the capital was displayed to their eyes in a moment.