"My brother Jean."
"Advance, brothers La Croissette."
We ascended a mean staircase and entered a room where we found a man and woman standing beside a large basket.
"Now get you into this," said La Croissette to me, "and we will lower you from the window. Stay, I will go first; it will give you confidence."
Twisting his long frame into the basket, he clasped his arms round his knees, and the others began to raise him by well-secured pulleys. The woman grew quite red in the face with the exertion of getting him over the window-ledge, and I own I trembled for him.
"All is right, he is safely down," said she, at length, and helped to pull up the basket. "Now, young man; you're not afraid?"
"Oh no; only don't let me down too fast."
"That must depend on how heavy you are. We can't keep dangling you between sky and earth all night. Come; you are not nearly as heavy as your brother. Adieu, mon cher; bon voyage!"
"Adieu, madame; mille remerciments."
I thought of St. Paul in the basket, and the two Israelitish spies. La Croissette eased my descent a good deal, by steadying the basket, and helped me out of it to our mutual satisfaction. It was then swiftly drawn up, and taken in.