The reader will remember the rustic, sentimental and philosophic trophy, which had been suspended in the cottage with great pomp. Mario hastily took it down, and in two minutes, having laid aside silk, velvet and lace, he was dressed in his former costume; whereupon they proceeded to the _huis_, walking noiselessly and without speaking. They had only about fifty paces to walks along the wall outside the garden. They walked that distance, without hindrance at least, if not without danger, to the sound of loud laughter, shrieks, blasphemies and hoarse singing from the farm-house. The tower of the _huis_ was dark and silent. Aristandre placed the two children close to the _sarrasine_, Mario in front, almost touching the first stake at the left. Then he took his hand and placed it on the ring of the chain which held the drawbridge in the air. There was nothing for him to do but to take that ring from the hook set in the wall. They did not venture to exchange another word. All about them, on the staircase, over their heads, there might be, there undoubtedly were, sentinels, sleeping or careless. Mario could not press the coachman's hand in his own, for his were clinging to the detached ring and the dragging chain. He put his lips to that rough hand and hurriedly imprinted a silent kiss upon it; perhaps it was an eternal farewell. Aristandre, deeply moved, abruptly withdrew his great paw, none the less, as if to say: "Nonsense! don't think of anything but yourself;" and, crossing himself fervently in the darkness, he resolutely ascended the short steep staircase to the _salle de manœuvre_. "Who goes there?" cried a deep voice which Mario instantly recognized as Sancho's. And as the coachman continued to ascend and approached the left side of the gallery, the voice added: "Will you answer, blockhead? Are you drunk? Answer, or I fire on you!" In an instant there was a report; but the stake was raised, Mario let go the chain, darted across the bridge, and fled without looking back. It seemed to him that the alarm was given on the _moucharabi_, and that a bullet whistled by his ears; he did not hear the report, the blood was making so much noise in his head. When he was out of range, he paused and leaned against a tree, for his strength failed him at the thought of what was taking place between Aristandre and the enemy's sentinels. He heard a great uproar in the tower, and something that sounded like the blows of a pickaxe on stone. It was Aristandre's spade, which he kept whirling about his head in the darkness; but he prudently kept silent, in order to be taken for a drunken gypsy, and Mario, straining his ears to hear his loud voice among the others, lost hope, and, with hope, courage to fly without him. The poor boy was thinking so little of himself that he did not even start when he felt a hand on his arm. It was Pilar, who had run faster than he, and was retracing her steps to find him.