Armed with the bayonet, and grumbling curses at the blood which was flowing freely from his arm, Mulroony followed Lisle and the lady to the barrier-gate, where two sentries were posted. The night was dark and black, and a dismal wind howled between the works and embrasures. The sentinels kept within their turrets, and every thing seemed favourable to their escape.
"Qui vive?" challenged one fellow at the gate. Louis hesitated a moment,—and the British reply "Friend," almost escaped his lips.
"Belzebub! Qui va là?" cried the gate-ward, again striking the butt of his firelock on the sentry-box floor.
"Make some answer, or we are undone," whispered Virginia, as she clung in terror to the arm of Louis, who, still advancing towards the gate, replied in a feigned voice,
"Caporal, hors de la garde."
"Aha!" replied the sentinel, coming from his box. "Avance, qui a l'ordre."
"MARENGO," replied Louis.
"Passe, mon ami," replied the soldier, returning to his box. His suspicions were lulled, and they gained the gate without further molestation, the darkness of the night rendering their figures so indistinct, that it was impossible for the sentinels to discover them. The barrier was composed of strong planks, through which a little wicket was cut.
"How fortunate!" said Lisle; "the passage is open, and the draw-bridge down. We are free, and shall soon be safe among the British troops."
"Huisht, plaze yer honner; its hearin' us they'll be! Be aisy. Help out the lady: will you lane on my arm too, mem?"