When we dared to look out in the court again, no one was there. But in a few moments, we again beheld Pere Bernier (or, rather, we heard him first, for there ensued between him and Mattoni a brief conversation the echoes of which were carried to us). And then we heard something which climbed under the arch of the gardener’s postern and Pere Bernier reappeared with the black and softly rolling form of a carriage beside him. We could see that it was the little English cart, drawn by Toby, Arthur Rance’s pony. The Court of the Bold was of beaten earth and the little equipage made no more sound than as if it were gliding over a carpet. Toby was so intelligent and so quiet that one would have said that he had received his instructions from Pere Bernier. The latter, reaching, at length, the “oubliette,” raised again his face toward our windows, and then, still holding Toby by the bridle, came to the door of the Square Tower. Leaving the little equipage before the door, he entered the tower. A few moments passed by which seemed to us like hours, particularly to Rouletabille, who was seized with a fit of trembling which shook his frame like an aspen leaf. Pere Bernier reappeared. He crossed the court alone and returned to the postern. It was then that we were obliged to lean further out and, certainly, the persons who were now upon the threshold of the Square Tower might have perceived us, if they had looked up at our side, but they were not thinking of us. The night had become clear and a beautiful moon had arisen which threw its rays over the sea and stretched its radiance across the Court of the Bold. The two persons who came out of the tower and approached the carriage appeared so surprised that they almost recoiled at what they saw. But we could hear the Lady in Black repeating again and again in low, firm tones: “Courage, Robert, courage! You must be brave now!” And Robert Darzac replied in a voice which froze my blood: “It is not courage which I lack!” He was bending over something which he dragged before him and then raised in his arms as though it were a heavy burden and tried to slip under the long seat of the English cart. Rouletabille had taken off his cap. His teeth were chattering. As well as we could distinguish, the thing was in a sack. To move this sack M. Darzac was making the greatest efforts and we heard him breathe a sigh of exhaustion. Leaning against the wall of the tower, the Lady in Black watched him without offering any assistance. And, suddenly, at the moment that M. Darzac had succeeded in loading the sack into the cart, Mathilde pronounced these words in a voice shaken with horror: “_It is moving._”