possible to step out from the Toison d'Or on to the roof of the house I occupied, it might be equally easy to get thence into the Toison d'Or. Taking my sword, I measured the distance of the ledge from the window-sill, and then, holding on to the mullions by one hand, stretched out as far as I could, and found I could just touch the top of the parapet with the point of my blade. In short, the position was this: that so hard and smooth was the outside of the wall, it was impossible for anything save a lizard to get along it to the window behind which I supposed Madame was prisoned; yet it was feasible, with the aid of a rope thrown over the grinning head of the gargoyle a little above me, or else over the low battlement of the parapet, to reach the roof, and the odds were in favour of there being some sort of a door or window that would give ingress thence into the Toison d'Or. I began after this to be a little more satisfied with my quarters, and determined to set about my explorations about the dinner hour, when most people would be within, and the chance of discovery reduced to a minimum. I did not feel justified in putting the matter off until nightfall, as I have often observed that there was no time so good as the one I had chosen for affairs which depended much for their results upon a surprise. I now stepped out of my room, and, walking along the passage, looked out from the little turret along the face of the street. It was more alive than I had ever seen it before, but the occupants were principally women and children, with a man or so here and there. I saw that whilst the sunlight fell in patchwork and long narrow stretches on the street, it was bright enough where I was, and I perceived I had a good excuse for spending such time as I intended to behind the embrasures of the turret. And this excuse I had to bring into play at once, for as I stood there I heard a footstep on the passage, and, turning, observed the woman of the house. 'I see,' she began, 'you are already in your turret.' 'I like the sun, my good woman, and have had a long journey.' Something in my tone made her look at me oddly, and I began to wish I were well away from the keen scrutiny of her eyes. She dropped the _tutoyer_ and asked: 'If monsieur is tired he would probably like his dinner earlier.' '_Morbleu!_ The very thing, madame, and as long a bottle of Beaugency as you can get with it.' 'It shall be done, monsieur,' and she turned to go. It struck me as a little odd that she should have come up in this aimless manner; but reflecting that perhaps, after all, it was due to nothing more than a desire to gratify feminine curiosity by spying what I was about, I dismissed the matter.