"That poor fellow, yonder--he lies quiet enough now God forgive him his heresy, say I!--kept the door manfully while the gentleman got on the roof, and ran right down the street on the tops of the houses, with them firing and hooting at him: for all the world as if he had been a squirrel and they a pack of boys with stones!" "And he escaped ?" "Escaped!" she answered more slowly, shaking her old head in doubt.
"I do not know about that I fear they have got him by now, gentlemen.
I have been shivering and shaking up stairs with my husband--he is in bed, good man, and the safest place for him--the saints have mercy upon us! But I heard them go with their shouting and gunpowder right along to the river, and I doubt they will take him between this and the CHATELET! I doubt they will." "How long ago was it, dame ?" I cried.
"Oh! may be half an hour.

Perhaps you are friends of his ?" she added questioningly.
But I did not stay to answer her.

I shook Croisette, who had not heard a word of this, by the shoulder.

"There is a chance that he has escaped!" I cried in his ear.

"Escaped, do you hear ?" And I told him hastily what she had said.
It was fine, indeed, and a sight, to see the blood rush to his cheeks, and the tears dry in his eyes, and energy and decision spring to life in every nerve and muscle of his face, "Then there is hope ?" he cried, grasping my arm.