Two days later, a half-famished horse dragged a gipsy caravan into Crozant. Its driver obtained leave to stable it at the end of the village, in an old deserted cart-shed. In addition to the driver, who was none other than Valméras, there were three young men, who occupied themselves in the manufacture of wicker-work chairs: Beautrelet and two of his Janson friends. They stayed there for three days, waiting for a propitious, moonless night and roaming singly round the outskirts of the park. Once Beautrelet saw the postern. Contrived between two buttresses placed very close together, it was almost merged, behind the screen of brambles that concealed it, in the pattern formed by the stones of the wall. At last, on the fourth evening, the sky was covered with heavy black clouds and Valméras decided that they should go reconnoitring, at the risk of having to return again, should circumstances prove unfavorable. All four crossed the little wood. Then Beautrelet crept through the heather, scratched his hands at the bramble-hedge and, half raising himself, slowly, with restrained movements, put the key into the lock. He turned it gently. Would the door open without an effort? Was there no bolt closing it on the other side? He pushed: the door opened, without a creak or jolt. He was in the park. “Are you there, Beautrelet?” asked Valméras. “Wait for me. You two chaps, watch the door and keep our line of retreat open. At the least alarm, whistle.” He took Beautrelet’s hand and they plunged into the dense shadow of the thickets. A clearer space was revealed to them when they reached the edge of the central lawn. At the same moment a ray of moonlight pierced the clouds; and they saw the castle, with its pointed turrets arranged around the tapering spire to which, no doubt, it owed its name. There was no light in the windows; not a sound. Valméras grasped his companion’s arm: “Keep still!” “What is it?” “The dogs, over there—look—” There was a growl. Valméras gave a low whistle. Two white forms leapt forward and, in four bounds, came and crouched at their master’s feet. “Gently—lie down—that’s it—good dogs—stay there.” And he said to Beautrelet: “And now let us push on. I feel more comfortable.” “Are you sure of the way?” “Yes. We are near the terrace.” “And then?” “I remember that, on the left, at a place where the river terrace rises to the level of the ground-floor windows, there is a shutter which closes badly and which can be opened from the outside.” They found, when they came to it, that the shutter yielded to pressure. Valméras removed a pane with a diamond which he carried. He turned the window-latch. First one and then the other stepped over the balcony. They were now in the castle, at the end of a passage which divided the left wing into two.