The mayor took the flask and drank a very little, giving it back again and saying, "Mix it with water ere you give him any. By Heaven, it is like fire! Yet it will keep me up, I do believe. Hark! there are steps. Put it up, quick. They might murder you for it, if any of the common people were to see it." The steps were those of a soldier bringing the scanty meal, which was all the mayor allowed himself. A pen and ink and a scrap of paper were then procured, and the pass for Edward and Clement Tournon was soon written. To make all sure, Guiton called the young officer, in whom he seemed to have much confidence, and asked if he would be on guard at the gates that night. The young man answered in the affirmative; and the mayor gave strict directions that Monsieur Edward Langdale and the syndic Tournon should be passed safely and unmolested on their way toward the royal camp. A smile of hope and pleasure came upon the officer's face, and Guiton added, "Do not deceive yourself, Bernard. This is no treaty for surrender. We must suffer a little longer; and then we shall have relief. Here, go with Monsieur Langdale, first to the gate by which he entered, then to the end of the Rue de l'Horloge. There leave him. Farewell, sir," he continued, turning to Edward, and then adding, in a lower tone, "Mark well the turnings from the gate, and walk somewhat slow and feebly, so as not to draw attention. The people are in an irritable state." CHAPTER XLII. I will not dwell upon the horrors of the streets of Rochelle. They have been described by an able pen: at least, I believe so; for I have not seen the work of Madame de Genlis since my boyhood, and that, dear reader, is a long time ago,--quite long enough to forget more than that. The part of the town in which stood the house of Clement Tournon seemed quite deserted, and the house itself showed no signs of being inhabited. The windows were all closed; and the little court before the building, which separated it from the general line of the street, and which was once so trimly kept, was now all overgrown with grass. It was knee-high; and even the path of smooth white stones which led to the principal door hardly showed a trace of the unfrequent footfall. With a sinking heart, Edward looked up; but all was still and silent. The door stood open, and he approached and knocked with his knuckles. There was no reply, however: no voices were heard from the once merry kitchen, no sound of hammer or file from the workshop.