"Oh, I saw them, and I noticed how frightened you all were into the bargain. But are those the keys you have at your girdle?" "Yes; this is the one for the door, and this other one for the manacles," said Paul, holding up a pair of rusty keys to Jeannette's view. "I wish the watch was over," he added, shuddering, "or I had _un bon camarade_." "Eh, bien! bon nuit, mon bonhomme," said Jeannette, gathering up the empty tankard, and flitting along the lonesome corridors back again to her mistress, who was waiting with feverish impatience for her return. "What news have you, Jeannette? Did all go well?" "Beautiful, my lady. He drank the ale, and praised it finely. I knew he would do that, for those horrid men always praise ale. But the wonder to me is that the beastly stuff did not turn his stomach." "Did you see the cell, then, in which the Saxon is confined?" "Yes; and Paul showed me which is the key for the door, and which is for the manacles; for he is chained fast to the wall, it appears." "Oh, dear, I wish it was over, for I tremble from head to foot. It is a desperate enterprise, and would be both rash and indelicate if the mercifulness of it did not demand the sacrifice. Dost thou fear to venture it, Jeannette?" "Not a bit, my lady; I like to outwit those men folk, for they count us nothing, and it will be such a joke to see their blank looks in the morning! And won't the Baron rage and swear at the men-at-arms?" "Oh, do hush, you foolish child, it is far too serious to jest about. I wish your courage and lightheartedness may not fail you before our task is accomplished! If a merciful Heaven do not help us, I fear me we shall never accomplish our purpose." "Let us make vow to Notre Dame, before we venture, that we will repeat fifty Aves and Credos if she help us, and give twenty silver pennies to the holy Father at the next gathering of the Romescot."[1] [Footnote 1: Peter's pence.] "Well, we will see about that; but we had better get ready, for the draught will soon take effect upon this sweetheart of yours." "Stuff, my lady! He is a little finikin fellow, and simple to boot. I do but tease him. He amuses me so much I really cannot help joking him." Ere long these two frail women stole along the lonesome passages, having fortified themselves as best they could for their task. Alice was dreadfully nervous, but determined of purpose. Jeannette, however, was jaunty enough at starting, and had it been the congenial task of tricking poor Paul Lazaire, her volatile temperament would have carried her through; but she soon began to manifest, by many hysterical starts, that this dramatic adventure, which might become a tragedy, was telling powerfully upon her nerves.