They resolved to approach as near as they could, under cover of the thick clumps of shrubs planted along the carriage-drive which surrounded the house.
They waited for some time; and then, from the sound of voices and laughter that came from the ground-floor, at the back, they concluded that this must be the scene of the banquet and that the guests were sitting down to dinner. There were bursts of song, shouts of applause. Outside, nothing stirred. The garden was deserted.
"The place seems quiet," said Paul. "I shall ask you to give me a leg up and to keep hidden yourself."
"You want to climb to the ledge of one of the windows? What about the shutters?"
"I don't expect they're very close. You can see the light shining through the middle."
"Well, but why are you doing it? There is no reason to bother about this house more than any other."
"Yes, there is. You yourself told me that one of the wounded prisoners said Prince Conrad had taken up his quarters in a villa outside Èbrecourt. Now this one, standing in the middle of a sort of entrenched camp and at the entrance to the tunnel, seems to me marked out. . . ."
"Not to mention this really princely dinner-party," said Bernard, laughing. "You're right. Up you go."
They crossed the walk. With Bernard's assistance, Paul was easily able to grip the ledge above the basement floor and to hoist himself to the stone balcony.
"That's it," he said. "Go back to where we were and whistle in case of danger."