“A woman!” exclaimed Warthy, surprised. “And, by my faith, a very pretty one, too! Take care, mademoiselle! My men are coming down into the vault to look for your companions.”
“Let me come up first,” she rejoined, placing herself in the mouth of the trap, so as to obstruct the descent of the soldiers. “It will be useless for you to search the vault. You will find no one there.”
“I shan't take your word for that, mademoiselle,” rejoined Warthy. “Make way. My men must go down.”
Madelon was obliged to obey, and the four soldiers instantly descended.
In another minute, Warthy, who was listening anxiously, heard shouts and the noise of a struggle within the vault, and he called to know whether Bourbon had been captured.
“Yes, we've caught him,” replied a soldier from below.
“Well done, my brave fellows!” cried Warthy. “You shall be handsomely rewarded. Bring him up at once.”
“Fear nothing, father,” said Madelon, noticing the miller's consternation. “It is not the Constable.”
“Heaven be praised for that!” exclaimed Benoit.
A man-at-arms now ascended from the vault. After him came the captive, and then the three other soldiers.