A SEQUEL TO "THE NIEBELUNGEN."
BY PROFESSOR CHARLES E. BLUMENTHAL.
(Continued from page 261.)
CHAPTER IX.
Develour and his associates left the little house in the Ruelle des Jardiniers and marched down the Rue de Charenton, in order to avoid being seen by any sentinel which the revelers of the Rue Montgallet might have had the precaution to place before the door. Caleb and Develour walked at the head of the troop, followed by Bertram and Filmot with the père between them. When they reached the barrière, they met with an unexpected interruption from a small body of municipal guards, who stood like statues in the gloomy shade of a temporary guard-house. Their sudden appearance, and the quick and decisive qui vive of their brave young Captain St. Leger, disconcerted Develour for a moment; but Caleb whispered to him—
"Halt the men, while I give this young fire-eater the watchword, which he begins to suspect is not in our possession."
Then advancing a few steps, he, in a low tone, but loud enough for the officer to hear, spoke the word "Philippe and Amelia;" then immediately resumed his former position, while he said "Pass, guard of the throne." Develour's band then turned into the Ruelle de Quatre Chemins, and marched up the Rue de Trois Chandelles until they came to an alley, into which they went. About the middle of the alley, they halted before a massive gate, which opened into the garden of Madame Georgiana's pied à terre. Here a whispered conversation took place as to the best mode of gaining entrance into the garden They had expected to find it open; for so their spy had reported it to have been at an early hour of the evening. Disappointed, some proposed to break it down; but this was rejected, on account of the noise which would attend such an effort, and might give the alarm to the revelers. Others proposed to send for a locksmith; but this was considered as consuming too much time, when every moment was of the greatest value. At last Bertram, who, with Caleb, had taken no part in the discussion, said—
"If the grille is not surmounted with spikes too large to cross, I will soon have it open. At any rate, I will try. Come, Père Tranchard, let us have your ladder."
The silken cords were soon uncoiled, and Bertram, with one dextrous throw, fastened the hooks around the cross-bars between the spikes. He then mounted the ladder, and bade the père follow him. Poor Père Tranchard, notwithstanding his many excuses, was compelled to share the perilous ascent When the two had reached the top, Bertram ordered his frightened companion to crawl along the grille to the wall, and there, perched in a very uneasy position, remain a sentinel in the avenues from the house; he then coolly surveyed the ground on the other side of the gate, and, after a few seconds of deliberation, drew the ladder after him, and lowered it into the garden. Not the slightest noise betrayed the presence of a living being, and he congratulated himself already upon his success while descending the lowest rounds, when his progress was suddenly arrested by some one who seized the collar of his coat, without any warning except an inarticulate grumbling noise. The rain and the thick darkness prevented him from seeing his assailant; but, when he turned in order to lay hold of him, he found a shaggy head coming in contact with his face. As soon as he felt the hair brush against his cheek, he gave a low laugh, and said—
"Down, Carlo, down! It is Bertram."
His four-footed assailant, a large dog of the African lion breed, immediately relinquished his hold, and crouched at the feet of his old master.
"Just so," muttered Bertram. "I thought Jacquelin would not like to go the rounds to-night, and would confide his post to thee, Carlo. Come, let us go and hunt for thy new master."