“Let me have the lantern,” said El Cuervo.
“Here it is.”
“Now, you come up.”
The garret was littered with laths and rubbish. El Cuervo, crouching low, went to one end of it, where he put out the light, slid between two beams that scarcely looked as if they would permit the passage of a man, and disappeared. Quentin, not without a great effort, did the same, and found himself upon the ridge of a roof.
“Do you see that garret?” said El Cuervo.
“Yes.”
“Well, go over to it, keeping always on this side; push the window, which will give way, and enter; go down four or five steps; find a door; open it with this key, and you will be in your room—safer than the King of Spain.”
“How about getting out?”
“You will be notified.”
“And eating?”