"And that you, too, are alive."
"Now that you are safe, why should I not?"
"Where is Gottlieb?"
"I expect he is now in bed at Spandau."
"Heavens! Gottlieb left behind? He will then suffer for us."
"He will suffer neither for himself nor for any one else. The alarm having been given, I know not by whom, I hurried at all risks to find you, seeing that the time was come to risk all for all. I met the adjutant Nauteuil, that is to say, Mayer, the recruiting officer, very pale."
"You met him? Was he up and able to walk?"
"Why not?"
"He was wounded then?"
"Ah, yes. He told me he had hurt himself by falling, in the dark, on a stack of arms. I did not pay much attention to him, and asked where you were. He knew nothing, and seemed out of his mind. I almost thought he had intended to betray us, for the clock which sounded, the tone of which I know perfectly, is the one that hangs over his quarters. He seems to have changed his mind, for the creature knows much money is to be made by your escape. He then aided me in turning aside the attention of the garrison, by telling all he met that Gottlieb had another attack of somnambulism, and had caused another false alarm. In fact, as if Gottlieb wished to make good his words, we found him asleep in a corner, in the strange way in which he often does by day. Never mind where he is. One might have thought the agitation of his flight made him sleep, or he may by mistake have drank a few drops of the liquor I poured out so plentifully to his parents. What I know is, that they shut him up in the first room they came to, to keep him from walking on the glacis, and I thought it best to leave him there. No one can accuse him of anything, and my escape will be a sufficient explanation of your own. The Swartzes were too sound asleep to hear the bell, and no one has been to your room to ascertain whether it was open or shut. The alarm will not be serious until to-morrow. Nauteuil assisted me in dissipating it, and I set out to look for you, pretending the while to go to my dormitory. I was fortunate in finding you about three paces from the door we had to pass through. The keepers there were all bribed. At first I was afraid you were dead; but living or not, I would not leave you there. I took you without difficulty to the boat, which waited for you outside of the ditch. Then a very disagreeable thing happened, which I will tell you on some other occasion. You have had emotion enough to-day, and what I am thinking of might give you much trouble——"