“Very well, then,” said Rochefort. “I will use it for your freedom as well as mine. We will both escape.” “Impossible. How can I come through this hole?” “I will find a means. It is now ten o’clock, or at least I heard the chime a moment ago when I was talking to you. Be prepared to leave your cell. Can you climb down a rope?” “Yes, monsieur, I have done so once in my early days.” “Well, be prepared to do so again.” “But I do not see your meaning in the least.” “Never mind, you will soon.” “You frighten me.” “By my faith,” said Rochefort, laughing, “I am not easily frightened, but if I were, I believe I should be frightened now. Put back your bed, M. Ferminard, and when Bonvallot visits you on his last round pretend to be asleep.” CHAPTER VI THE ESCAPE “Very well, M. de Rochefort,” replied Ferminard. “I will do as you tell me, though as I have just said, I do not know your meaning in the least.” Rochefort heard him putting his bed back in its place. Then he set about his preparations. He placed the rope under the mattress of his own bed, and stripping the coverlet off, took the upper sheet away. Having replaced the coverlet, he began tearing the sheet into long strips. The sheet was about four feet broad and it gave him eight strips, each about six inches broad by five feet in length. Four of these he placed under the coverlet of his bed just as he had placed the rope under the mattress, the other four he put in his pockets. Then he sat down on his chair, and, placing his elbows on the table and his chin between his hands, began to review his plans, or rather the new modification of them which the inclusion of Ferminard in his flight necessitated. When Bonvallot appeared at his door on his last round of inspection, Rochefort was seated like this. “Ah, ha!” said he, turning his head, “you are earlier to-night, it seems to me.” “No, monsieur,” replied Bonvallot, “I am not before my time, for the clock of the courtyard has struck eleven.” “Indeed. I did not hear it. Sound does not carry very well among these stone walls, and though the courtyard clock is close to this cell, and though it doesn’t whisper over its work, the sound is scarcely perceptible. A man might shout in my cell, Monsieur Bonvallot, without being heard very far.” “My faith, you are right,” said Bonvallot. “We had a lunatic of a prisoner in No. 32 down the corridor, and it seemed to me that he spent all his time shouting, but he disturbed no one. Our inn is well constructed, you see, monsieur, so that the guests may have a quiet time.” Rochefort rose from his chair, walked to the door, shut it, and put his back against it. “Hi,” said Bonvallot, who had been bending to see if the water-pitcher were empty. “What are you doing, monsieur?” “Nothing. I wish to have a word with you. I am leaving your inn to-night and wish to settle my bill. Do not shout, you will not be heard, and if you move from the place where you are standing——”