ld set in. The glare of the brasier in the forge and the furnace
alone lighted the workshop.

"You are young and strong," said the old man to his apprentices; "for
want of better weapons, the iron bars that have been removed from the
window may serve you to defend us. Deposit them in a corner. Now pass
the barrel out of the window, and fasten to one of the hoops this
string, the other end of which is in Amael's hands. He is ready. He has
just answered my signal."

Their hearts beating with hope and anxiety, Rosen-Aer and Septimine
stood near the window in a close embrace. The apprentices pushed out the
barrel. The darkness was thick. Not even the whiteness of the building
in whose lower part lay Amael's prison, was distinguishable. Drawn
towards himself by the latter, the barrel soon disappeared in the dark.
In the measure that it went, one of the apprentices paid out the rope
attached to it. The rope was to help pull the barrel back as soon as
Amael had seized it. At that critical moment a profound silence reigned
in the workshop. All seemed to hold their breath. Despite the pitchy
darkness of the night that prevented anything being seen without, the
eyes of all sought to penetrate the obscurity. Finally, after a few
minutes of anxiety, the apprentice, who, leaning out of the window,
held the cord that was to pull the barrel back, said to the old man:
"Master Bonaik, the prisoner is out of the cavern; he is holding the
barrel; I feel the cord tighten."

"Then, you pull, my boy!... Pull gently.... Do not jerk!"

"He is coming," replied the apprentice joyfully; "the prisoner's weight
is upon the barrel."

"Great God!" suddenly cried Rosen-Aer, pointing out of the window. "Look
in the cavern! There is a light!... All is lost!"

Indeed, a strong light, shed by a lamp, suddenly appeared in the
subterranean prison. The semi-circular opening of the air-hole was
luminously marked across the darkness. The reverberation of the light
projected itself upon the water in the moat--and revealed the fugitive,
who, half submerged, held himself up with his two hands on the floating
barrel. Immediately after, Meroflede appeared at the air-hole wrapped in
her scarlet cloak with its hood thrown back, and leaning against the
remaining bars which Amael had not had time to remove. At the sight of
the fugitive, the abbess uttered a scream of rage and cried twice,
"Berthoald! Berthoald!" She then disappeared, taking her lamp with her,
so