“What is the matter?” asked Milady.
“Silence,” said Felton, “I hear footsteps.”
“We are discovered!”
There was a silence of several seconds.
“No,” said Felton, “it is nothing.”
“But what, then, is the noise?”
“That of the patrol going their rounds.”
“Where is their road?”
“Just under us.”
“They will discover us!”
“No, if it does not lighten.”
“But they will run against the bottom of the ladder.”
“Fortunately it is too short by six feet.”
“Here they are! My God!”
“Silence!”
Both remained suspended, motionless and breathless, within twenty paces of the ground, while the patrol passed beneath them laughing and talking. This was a terrible moment for the fugitives.
The patrol passed. The noise of their retreating footsteps and the murmur of their voices soon died away.
“Now,” said Felton, “we are safe.”