"Do as you're told."
Saint-Quentin obeyed.
Outside the caravan he found Dorothy, quite ready. By the light of the moon he saw that she was carrying a canvas bag, slung on a band running over her shoulder, and a coil of rope.
She led him to the spot at which the parapet touched the entrance gates. They fastened the rope to one of the bars and slid down it. Then Saint-Quentin climbed up to the parapet and unfastened the rope. They went down the slope into the ravine and along the foot of the cliff to the fissure up which Saint-Quentin had climbed the night before.
"Let us climb up," said Dorothy. "You will let down the rope and help me to ascend."
The ascent was not very difficult. The window of the pantry was open. They climbed in through it and Dorothy lit her bull's-eye lantern.
"Take that little ladder in the corner," she said.
But Saint-Quentin started to reason with her afresh:
"It's absurd. It's madness. We are running into the lion's maw."
"Get on!"