"Good! In four days I will bring you a rope."
"In God's name, Gaillard, how can you manage to bring a rope into this place?"
"I am not certain of that point yet, but I shall manage it," was the cool rejoinder.
"My dear Gaillard, I believe you. If you were to promise me to bring a spire of Notre Dame wrapped up in gold paper I should expect to see it at the appointed hour. With a rope in our possession and the bars cut, we can get down the forty feet to the yard beneath. But there is the sentry, and the difficulty of escape from the yard!"
"I will take care of the sentry and the escape," replied Gaillard, "and in four days I shall be here again. Meanwhile cut through the bars so that you can push them out of place at any moment. Attention; here comes the turnkey.
"Good-by, my nephew. Be of good cheer. A good patriot need have no fear," said Gaillard in a quavering voice.
"Good-by, my uncle," rejoined Tournay as he went back to his cell. "I shall see you then next week at the same hour," he called out through the bars of the door.
"Yes."
"Well, then, good-by again. Mind the step. Be careful lest my uncle trip, citizen turnkey; he is old and rather venturesome for one of his years."