"But you, you wretch! you shall not escape me," added she, holding on with desperate and convulsive anger to the captain's arm.
"They are coming, and you will be taken."
In fact, the lights were becoming more and more visible, and the captain could distinctly hear the voices of persons calling:
"Sister Prudence! Sister Prudence!"
The arrival of this aid increased the strength of the mother superior, who still clinched the arm of Horace. She was beginning to embarrass the sailor quite seriously; he could not resort to violence to escape this aged woman. In the meanwhile, the lights and the voices came nearer and nearer, and Sans-Plume, occupied, no doubt, in assuring the safe descent of Dolores on the other side of the wall, had not yet thrown the rope, his only means of flight. Then wishing, at any cost, to extricate himself from the grasp of the sister, the captain said to her:
"I pray you, madame, release me."
"Never, villain. Help, help!"
"Then pardon me, madame, because you force me to it. I am going to dance with you an infernal waltz, a riotous polka."
"A polka with me! You dare!"
"Come, madame, since you insist upon it we must. Keep time to the air. Tra, la, la, la."