“Pascal has had to retreat,” he said. “But we must go. Pierre or no Pierre,” and giving a last glance for the absent gaoler he set off at a brisk pace across the courtyard.
No one seemed to heed them and they were turning a corner of the building when Pierre came running after them.
“This way, my lord; not a moment must be lost,” he said, breathing hard. “I had to get rid of the captain yonder and to find you swords. There may be some fighting to be done.”
They raced along for a short distance at full speed, Pierre guiding them through deserted ways until at a turn of the walls they came in full view of the fighting, when Pierre stopped abruptly.
“We are too late,” he said hurriedly. “It would be madness to attempt it. See, they are already close to the breach.”
He was right, as Gerard recognized at a glance.
“What can we do?” he asked. “Is there another spot by which we can get out?”
“I know of none, my lord.”
“How say you, Dubois? Dare we risk it?”
“With mademoiselle it is hopeless,” he replied.