"Receive my compliments, monsieur, you are a man of great invention." "Thank you, monsieur; will you now see what book has been sent you, and what is written on the paper of the pot of sweetmeats." "Monsieur, the book is a Virgil." "That is it--she promised it to me," cried the voice, in an accent of happiness which surprised the chevalier, who could not understand that a Virgil should be so impatiently expected. "Now," said the prisoner with the bell, "pass on, I beg, to the pot of sweetmeats." "Willingly," said Gaston, and he read: "MONSIEUR LE CHEVALIER--I hear from the lieutenant of the prison that you occupy the room on the first floor, which has a window immediately below mine. Prisoners should aid and help each other; eat the sweetmeats, and pass the Virgil up to the Chevalier Dumesnil, whose chimney looks into the court." "That is what is expected," said the prisoner with the bell; "I was told at dinner to-day that I should receive this message." "Then you are the Chevalier Dumesnil?" "Yes, monsieur, and your humble servant." "I am yours," replied Gaston, "I have to thank you for a pot of sweetmeats, and I shall not forget my obligation." "In that case, monsieur," replied the prisoner, "have the kindness to detach the bell, and fasten on the Virgil instead." "But if you have not the light, you cannot read." "Oh, I will make another lantern." Gaston, who trusted to his neighbor's ingenuity, after the proofs he had had of it, made no further difficulties; he took the bell, which he placed in the neck of an empty bottle, and fastened on the Virgil, conscientiously replacing a letter which fell from between the leaves. "Thank you, monsieur," said Dumesnil; "and now, if you will reply to your neighbor below?" "You give me liberty?" "Yes, monsieur; though presently I shall make an appeal to your good nature." "At your orders, monsieur; you say, then, that for the letters----?" "One blow for A.; twenty-four for Z." "Thank you." The chevalier struck a blow with the handle of the broom, to give notice to his neighbor that he was ready to enter into conversation with him; it was instantly answered by another blow. At the end of half an hour the prisoners had succeeded in saying this-- "Good-evening, monsieur; what is your name?" "Thank you, monsieur; I am the Chevalier Gaston de Chanlay." "And I, the Marquis de Pompadour." At this moment Gaston, looking toward the windows, saw the string shaking convulsively. He struck three blows, to ask for patience, and returned to the chimney. "Monsieur," said he to Dumesnil, "I beg you to remember that the string at the window seems prodigiously ennuyé." "Beg her to have patience; I will attend to her presently." Gaston renewed the signal for patience on the ceiling, and then returned to the chimney, and the Virgil soon returned. "Monsieur," said Dumesnil, "have the goodness to fasten the Virgil to the string; that is what she wants."