“That is well,” I answered.  “Then we will start.  Your sister is sufficiently recovered now, I think.  And we will not risk any further delay.”

I did not tell her of her husband’s danger, or that we suspected him of wronging her, and being in fact the cause of her detention.  I wanted her services as a guide.  That was the main point, though I was glad to be able to put her in a place of safety at the same time that we fulfilled our own mission.

She rose eagerly.  “You are sure that we can get out?” she said.

“Sure,” I replied with a brevity worthy of Bezers himself.

And I was right.  We trooped down stairs, making as little noise as possible; with the result that Mirepoix only took the alarm, and came upon us when we were at the outer door, bungling with the lock.  Then I made short work of him, checking his scared words of remonstrance by flashing my dagger before his eyes.  I induced him in the same fashion—­he was fairly taken by surprise —­to undo the fastenings himself; and so, bidding him follow us at his peril, we slipped out one by one.  We softly closed the door behind us.  And lo! we were at last free—­free and in the streets of Paris, with the cool night air fanning our brows.  A church hard by tolled the hour of two; and the strokes were echoed, before we had gone many steps along the ill-paved way, by the solemn tones of the bell of Notre Dame.

We were free and in the streets, with a guide who knew the way.  If Bezers had not gone straight from us to his vengeance, we might thwart him yet.  I strode along quickly, Madame d’O by my side the others a little way in front.  Here and there an oil-lamp, swinging from a pulley in the middle of the road, enabled us to avoid some obstacle more foul than usual, or to leap over a pool which had formed in the kennel.  Even in my excitement, my country-bred senses rebelled against the sights, and smells, the noisome air and oppressive closeness of the streets.

The town was quiet, and very dark where the smoky lamps were not hanging.  Yet I wondered if it ever slept, for more than once we had to stand aside to give passage to a party of men, hurrying along with links and arms.  Several times too, especially towards the end of our walk, I was surprised by the flashing of bright lights in a courtyard, the door of which stood half open to right or left.  Once I saw the glow of torches reflected ruddily in the windows of a tall and splendid mansion, a little withdrawn from the street.  The source of the light was in the fore-court, hidden from us by a low wall, but I caught the murmur of voices and stir of many feet.  Once a gate was stealthily opened and two armed men looked out, the act and their manner of doing it, reminding me on the instant of those who had peeped out to inspect us some hours before in Bezers’ house.  And once, nay twice, in the mouth of a narrow alley I discerned a knot of men standing motionless in the gloom.  There was an air of mystery abroad, a feeling as of solemn stir and preparation going on under cover of the darkness, which awed and unnerved me.