“Then leave me, Gerard. You can get through alone, and I can find my way safely either to the Duchess or out through the main gateway. No one will stop me.”
“You wrong me in that thought, mademoiselle,” said Dubois hastily and earnestly. “God forbid that I should think of leaving you.”
“We would not dream of it,” declared Gerard. “We must wait where we are until matters have quieted down, and then go.”
“There is an old guard-house close by, my lord, where we can wait unseen,” said Pierre. “Unused now, save as a storehouse for the workmen.”
“I see the plan of the fight,” said Dubois. “It is Pascal, right enough. See, he is drawing off his men in good order. He knows his work when put to it, gabble-tongue though he be.”
“We may be spied out and suspected, my lord,” said Pierre. “Any minute may find the escape known now,” and he told how he had got rid of de Proballe. “If the Governor be found in your cell, hell will soon be loose in the Castle.”
“Come, Dubois, to cover,” said Gerard.
“Good, good,” cried Dubois, the soldier in him rejoicing; “they are through the walls to a man,” and reluctantly he obeyed Gerard’s injunction and followed him to the shelter.
“You can watch matters from here, monsieur,” said Pierre, as they entered the place. “The window up there commands a view of that part of the battlements.”
In a moment Dubois had clambered up, and the others waited anxiously to hear his report.