When he
overtook her she was already at the door of her house, where
Galope-Chopine's little boy was on the watch.
"Mademoiselle," said Corentin, "take the lad with you; you cannot have
a more innocent or active emissary. Boy," he added, "when you have
seen the Gars enter the house come to me, no matter who stops you;
you'll find me at the guard-house and I'll give you something that
will make you eat cake for the rest of your days."
At these words, breathed rather than said in the child's ear, Corentin
felt his hand squeezed by that of the little Breton, who followed
Mademoiselle de Verneuil into the house.
"Now, my good friends, you can come to an explanation as soon as you
like," cried Corentin when the door was closed. "If you make love, my
little marquis, it will be on your winding-sheet."
But Corentin could not bring himself to let that fatal house
completely out of sight, and he went to the Promenade, where he found
the commandant giving his last orders. By this time it was night. Two
hours went by; but the sentinels posted at intervals noticed nothing
that led them to suppose the marquis had evaded the triple line of men
who surrounded the three sides by which the tower of Papegaut was
accessible. Twenty times had Corentin gone from the Promenade to the
guard-room, always to find that his little emissary had not appeared.
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