"Shall I push it slowly or suddenly?"
"Let me manage it," said Agricola; and he opened the gate so quickly, that it creaked very little; still the noise might have been plainly heard, in the silence of the night, during one of the lulls between the squalls of wind.
Agricola and his father remained motionless for a moment, listening uneasily, before they ventured to pa.s.s through the gate. Nothing stirred, however; all remained calm and still. With fresh courage, they entered the reserved garden.
Hardly had the dog arrived on this spot, when he exhibited tokens of extraordinary delight. Picking up his ears, wagging his tail, bounding rather than running, he had soon reached the paling where, in the morning, Rose Simon had for a moment conversed with Mdlle. de Cardoville. He stopped an instant at this place, as if at fault, and turned round and round like a dog seeking the scent.
Dagobert and his son, leaving Spoil-sport to his instinct, followed his least movements with intense interest, hoping everything from his intelligence and his attachment to the orphans.
"It was no doubt near this paling that Rose stood when Mother Bunch saw her," said Dagobert. "Spoil-sport is on her track. Let him alone."
After a few seconds, the dog turned his head towards Dagobert, and started at full trot in the direction of a door on the ground-floor of a building, opposite to that occupied by Adrienne. Arrived at this door, the dog lay down, seemingly waiting for Dagobert.
"No doubt of it! the children are there!" said Dagobert, hastening to rejoin Spoil-sport; "it was by this door that they took Rose into the house."
"We must see if the windows are grated," said Agricola, following his father.
"Well, old fellow!" whispered the soldier, as he came up to the dog and pointed to the building, "are Rose and Blanche there?"
The dog lifted his head, and answered by a joyful bark. Dagobert had just time to seize the mouth of the animal with his hands.
"He will ruin all!" exclaimed the smith. "They have, perhaps, heard him."
"No," said Dagobert. "But there is no longer any doubt--the children are here."
At this instant, the iron gate, by which the soldier and his son had entered the reserved garden, and which they had left open, fell to with a loud noise.
"They"ve shut us in," said Agricola, hastily; "and there is no other issue."
For a moment, the father and son looked in dismay at each other; but Agricola instantly resumed: "The gate has perhaps shut of itself. I will make haste to a.s.sure myself of this, and to open it again if possible."
"Go quickly; I will examine the windows."
Agricola flew towards the gate, whilst Dagobert, gliding along the wall, soon reached the windows on the ground floor. They were four in number, and two of them were not grated. He looked up at the first story; it was not very far from the ground, and none of the windows had bars. It would then be easy for that one of the two sisters, who inhabited this story, once informed of their presence, to let herself down by means of a sheet, as the orphans had already done to escape from the inn of the White Falcon. But the difficult thing was to know which room she occupied. Dagobert thought they might learn this from the sister on the ground floor; but then there was another difficulty--at which of the four windows should they knock?
Agricola returned precipitately. "It was the wind, no doubt, which shut the gate," said he. "I have opened it again, and made it fast with a stone. But we have no time to lose."
"And how shall we know the windows of the poor children?" said Dagobert, anxiously.
"That is true," said Agricola, with uneasiness. "What is to be done?"
"To call them at hap-hazard," continued Dagobert, "would be to give the alarm."
"Oh, heavens!" cried Agricola, with increasing anguish. "To have arrived here, under their windows, and yet not to know!"
"Time presses," said Dagobert, hastily, interrupting his son; "we must run all risks."
"But how, father?"
"I will call out loud, "Rose and Blanche"--in their state of despair, I am sure they do not sleep. They will be stirring at my first summons. By means of a sheet, fastened to the window, she who is on the first story will in five minutes be in our arms. As for the one on the ground floor--if her window is not grated, we can have her in a second. If it is, we shall soon loosen one of the bars."
"But, father--this calling out aloud?"
"Will not perhaps be heard."
"But if it is heard--all will be lost."
"Who knows? Before they have time to call the watch, and open several doors, the children may be delivered. Once at the entrance of the boulevard, and we shall be safe."
"It is a dangerous course; but I see no other."
"If there are only two men, I and Spoil-sport will keep them in check, while you will have time to carry off the children."
"Father, there is a better way--a surer one," cried Agricola, suddenly.
"From what Mother Bunch told us, Mdlle. de Cardoville has corresponded by signs with Rose and Blanche."
"Yes."
"Hence she knows where they are lodged, as the poor children answered her from their windows."
"You are right. There is only that course to take. But how find her room?"
"Mother Bunch told me there was a shade over the window."
"Quick! we have only to break through a wooden fence. Have you the iron bar?"
"Here it is."
"Then, quick!"
In a few steps, Dagobert and his son had reached the paling. Three planks, torn away by Agricola, opened an easy pa.s.sage.
"Remain here, father, and keep watch," said he to Dagobert, as he entered Dr. Baleinier"s garden.
The indicated window was easily recognized. It was high and broad; a sort of shade surmounted it, for this window had once been a door, since walled in to the third of its height. It was protected by bars of iron, pretty far apart. Since some minutes, the rain had ceased. The moon, breaking through the clouds, shone full upon the building. Agricola, approaching the window, saw that the room was perfectly dark; but light came from a room beyond, through a door left half open. The smith, hoping that Mdlle. de Cardoville might be still awake, tapped lightly at the window. Soon after, the door in the background opened entirely, and Mdlle. de Cardoville, who had not yet gone to bed, came from the other chamber, dressed as she had been at her interview with Mother Bunch. Her charming features were visible by the light of the taper she held in her hand. Their present expression was that of surprise and anxiety. The young girl set down the candlestick on the table, and appeared to listen attentively as she approached the window. Suddenly she started and stopped abruptly. She had just discerned the face of a man, looking at her through the window. Agricola, fearing that Mdlle. de Cardoville would retire in terror to the next room, again tapped on the gla.s.s, and running the risk of being heard by others, said in a pretty loud voice: "It is Agricola Baudoin."
These words reached the ears of Adrienne. Instantly remembering her interview with Mother Bunch, she thought that Agricola and Dagobert must have entered the convent for the purpose of carrying off Rose and Blanche. She ran to the window, recognized Agricola in the clear moonlight, and cautiously opened the cas.e.m.e.nt.
"Madame," said the smith, hastily; "there is not an instant to lose.
The Count de Montbron is not in Paris. My father and myself have come to deliver you."
"Thanks, thanks, M. Agricola!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a tone expressive of the most touching grat.i.tude; "but think first of the daughters of General Simon."
"We do think of them, madame, I have come to ask you which are their windows."
"One is on the ground floor, the last on the garden-side; the other is exactly over it, on the first story."
"Then they are saved!" cried the smith.