Continuing to pace to and fro, he remained within sight of the prison until the darkness gathered around, and the bright stars, one by one, came shining in brilliant beauty overhead. The sight of them, as he raised his prayerful eyes upwards, calmed his spirit, and he whispered gently, “He calleth them all by their names.” It was a thought calculated to inspire confidence in Him who has promised to his children that they shall be graven on the palms of his hands, and who has said, “Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee,” and the spirit of Victor was cheered as he pleaded the exceeding great and precious promises of divine love. At length the hour of midnight approached, and still all around remained hushed in repose. There was nothing to justify his prognostications, nor to awaken alarm, and he had just resolved to retire, when the sound of horses tramping at a distance, caught his ear. Presently, from a side street emerged a small troop of horsemen, who moved cautiously along, and kept, as much as possible, within the deep shadows of the walls. They proceeded down the street, and drew up before the gate of the prison-house. Victor, who had hastily retired beneath an archway, watched their movements with strained eyes, and dimly saw, by the starlight, the outline of their figures as they filed along. The gate was unbarred to them without summons, and the next instant a muffled form was led out between two men, and hastily lifted on to the crupper of one of the horses behind the stalwart form of a trooper. There was not a moment to lose, for the party were evidently about to resume their march, and Victor, with ready wit, emerging from his hiding-place, reeled forward, in the manner of a drunken man, and began to sing a carol. Just as the horse with its double freight passed him, he shouted the words, “Save us at the latest hour.” His stratagem succeeded, for a shrill whistle was instantly heard mingling with the ringing sound of the horses’ hoofs on the stones, as they passed along the street. “It is he!” cried Victor, and, with the speed of a greyhound he darted down the nearest passage. [Picture: Victor . . . watched their movements] He knew that his errand admitted not of delay. There was but one chance that Palissy might be saved. It was an intercession with the king; and possibly the Sire de Pons, on receiving immediate information of the secret Victor had thus learned, might take timely measures to frustrate the deadly designs of Barnard’s enemies. CHAPTER XII. “A good man shall be satisfied from himself.”—PROVERBS xiv. 14. PALISSY was now immured within the walls of the Bordeaux prison. While he lies there, bereft of the consolation he had hitherto enjoyed in the society of Victor, we must betake ourselves to a very different scene.