"Helloa, old Bonaik! Is not the intendant in your workshop? I do not know what the man is thinking about. It is two hours since the boat and oarsmen are waiting for his messenger.... They are growing impatient and want to go."
"They will not have long to wait; I am the messenger."
"Are you going to fill the functions of messenger?"
"Do you know this bunch of keys?"
"Surely I know this bunch of keys. It is the one the intendant always carries at his belt."
"He confided it to me so that I could get out of the abbey yard in case you were not at your lodge. Let us go quick to the boat. Walk ahead."
Convinced by the sincerity of the old man, whose presence of mind seemed to grow with the difficulties that arose in his way, the gateman marched ahead of him. Bonaik, however, slackened his pace, and, calling to one of the apprentices, in a low voice said: "Justin, you and the others follow me at a distance; the night is dark, the light of the gateman's lantern will guide us, but the moment you hear me whistle, all run up to me." Having attended to that, Bonaik addressed the gateman who had gone far ahead: "Helloa, Bernard! Do not walk so fast; you forget that at my age one's legs are not as nimble as yours." Thus, preceded by the gateman and followed at a distance in the dark by the rest of the fugitives, Bonaik arrived at the outer court of the monastery. Bernard stopped and seemed to listen.
"What's the matter?" asked the goldsmith. "Why do you halt?"
"Do you not see the flare of torches lighting the top of the wall of the inside court? Do you not hear voices?"
"March, man! March! I have other business in hand than to stop to look at torches, or listen to noises. I must obey our holy abbess and deliver Ricarik's message as soon as possible. I have not a second to lose. Quick, let's hurry."