"None better! But I make one condition," said Desforges,—"that we are not to kill anyone." "There will be no necessity. We shall go down armed to the courtyard; one of us will entice the concierge near the door, and the other will cover him with a pistol. A little determination is all we shall need." Six o'clock struck, and the gaoler came to conduct the prisoners to the courtyard. They descended with their weapons in their pockets, and once in the yard Dessaignes was for losing not a moment. Their guard was the only attendant within sight, and as Desforges held him in talk, Dessaignes suddenly stepped behind and seized him by his coat-collar. The startled gaoler prepared to summon help, but before he could get out a word Dessaignes clapped a pistol to his forehead. "Speak but one syllable," said he in a whisper, "and you will never utter another. Come, your keys!" "Never!" replied the gaoler. "Your soul to God, then, for your hour has come!" The gaoler felt the muzzle at his forehead, and saw the glitter in the eyes of his captor. He hesitated. "A second more, and I fire. Reflect!" said Dessaignes, quietly. The gaoler's hand was already moving towards his keys when, all at once, his collar burst in the grip of Dessaignes, and he fell backwards. At the same instant, and by accident, Dessaignes' pistol exploded. The crack brought a dozen warders on the scene. "Quick!" cried Dessaignes to his fellow-prisoner; "up-stairs again!" They gained their cell, Dessaignes shut and bolted the door, and together they barricaded it with all the furniture they could lay hands on. "How much powder have we?" asked Desforges, under his breath. "About four charges, but we shall not need it," replied Dessaignes. "Wait; I'll give them their answer." The warders hammered vainly at the door. "Gentlemen," called Dessaignes, "we may be induced to capitulate, but we shall not yield to force. You had better desist. We have powder enough here to blow the Abbaye to the gate of heaven." A murmur of alarm arose on the other side of the door, and silence followed. "You see!" observed Dessaignes, "these pious chaps will not mount unprepared into the presence of their Maker!" The posse of warders was, in fact, withdrawn. "But what shall we do next?" asked Desforges. "For the present," said Dessaignes, "we shall wait. They will be wanting to make terms with us." But the night passed, and no offer of capitulation was received. Two other things lacking were, supper in the evening and breakfast in the morning. The enemy had apparently changed their tactics; the blockade of the prisoners was complete, and so was the famine. The day wore on, and night came again; but not the paltriest offer of terms, nor a bowl of thin soup. The next day broke with a prospect as barren. Towards noon a deputation was heard approaching. "If you don't give us something to eat," cried Dessaignes, "sooner than die of hunger we will blow up the prison."