“Come, my friends,” I said to the two men, who were shivering in the icy wind which swept across the building, “you are soon to be in a warmer place. No, do not fear, we are not going to harm you,—that is, if you keep still. We are going to slip each of you down one of those chimneys, where, about six feet from the top, there is a grating upon which you can stand very comfortably. I promise you, moreover, that if you are quiet and do not struggle we will send a message to the governor in the morning telling him where you are, so that he can release you.”
I saw that the gags were fast and that their hands and feet were securely bound. Then I mounted the chimney and, with the assistance of Richelieu, pulled one of the prisoners to the top and lowered him inside. I felt him shudder as he swung over the inky pit, but his feet soon found the grating, and in a moment he was standing in safety and quite invisible from the roof. The same manœuvre was repeated at the other chimney, I having first assured myself that it was also grated, and Richelieu and I were left alone upon the parapet. All of this had taken time, and we knew the moment of the relief could not be far distant. We picked up the muskets and started to patrol the roof.
“The pass-word,” I said to Richelieu, “is Montjoy and St. Denis.”
“And how under heaven do you know that, my friend?” he asked, in amazement.
“By inspiration,” I answered, and left him to his astonishment. We had made the round scarce half a dozen times when we heard a door unbolted.
“Montjoy,” cried a voice.
“St. Denis,” we answered, from different parts of the roof.
“All right, mes enfants,” cried the voice; “step lively, if you please.”
A faint light appeared, and we hastened towards it.
“You are to report at once to the governor,” said the man, who by his uniform I saw to be an officer. “Two of the guards are ill to-night and you will have to do double duty.”