The patrol passed.  The noise of their retreating footsteps and the murmur of their voices soon died away.

“Now,” said Felton, “we are safe.”

Milady breathed a deep sigh and fainted.

Felton continued to descend.  Near the bottom of the ladder, when he found no more support for his feet, he clung with his hands; at length, arrived at the last step, he let himself hang by the strength of his wrists, and touched the ground.  He stooped down, picked up the bag of money, and placed it between his teeth.  Then he took Milady in his arms, and set off briskly in the direction opposite to that which the patrol had taken.  He soon left the pathway of the patrol, descended across the rocks, and when arrived on the edge of the sea, whistled.

A similar signal replied to him; and five minutes after, a boat appeared, rowed by four men.

The boat approached as near as it could to the shore; but there was not depth enough of water for it to touch land.  Felton walked into the sea up to his middle, being unwilling to trust his precious burden to anybody.

Fortunately the storm began to subside, but still the sea was disturbed.  The little boat bounded over the waves like a nut-shell.

“To the sloop,” said Felton, “and row quickly.”

The four men bent to their oars, but the sea was too high to let them get much hold of it.

However, they left the castle behind; that was the principal thing.  The night was extremely dark.  It was almost impossible to see the shore from the boat; they would therefore be less likely to see the boat from the shore.

A black point floated on the sea.  That was the sloop.  While the boat was advancing with all the speed its four rowers could give it, Felton untied the cord and then the handkerchief which bound Milady’s hands together.  When her hands were loosed he took some sea water and sprinkled it over her face.

Milady breathed a sigh, and opened her eyes.

“Where am I?” said she.

“Saved!” replied the young officer.

“Oh, saved, saved!” cried she.  “Yes, there is the sky; here is the sea!  The air I breathe is the air of liberty!  Ah, thanks, Felton, thanks!”

The young man pressed her to his heart.

“But what is the matter with my hands!” asked Milady; “it seems as if my wrists had been crushed in a vice.”

Milady held out her arms; her wrists were bruised.

“Alas!” said Felton, looking at those beautiful hands, and shaking his head sorrowfully.

“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing!” cried Milady.  “I remember now.”

Milady looked around her, as if in search of something.

“It is there,” said Felton, touching the bag of money with his foot.

They drew near to the sloop.  A sailor on watch hailed the boat; the boat replied.

“What vessel is that?” asked Milady.