hrowing back the same ball, he throws another, which contains a
letter for me. My friends hear from me and I from them, without any
one being the wiser."

"The devil!" said La Ramee, scratching his head, "you do well to tell
me this, Monseigneur. In future I will keep an eye on pickers up of
balls. But, after all, that is only a means of correspondence."

"Wait a little. I write to my friends--'On such a day and at such an
hour, be in waiting on the other side of the moat with two led
horses.'"

"Well," said La Ramee, with some appearance of uneasiness, "but what
then? Unless, indeed, the horses have wings, and can fly up the
rampart to fetch you."

"Or that I have means of flying down," said the duke, carelessly. "A
rope-ladder, for instance."

"Yes," said La Ramee, with a forced laugh; "but a rope ladder can
hardly be sent in a tennis-ball, though a letter may."

"No; but it may be sent in something else. Let us only suppose, for
argument's sake, that my cook, Noirmont, has purchased the
pastrycook's shop opposite the castle. La Ramee, who is a bit of an
epicure, tries his pies, finds them excellent, and asks me if I would
like to taste one. I accept the offer, on condition that he shall help
me to eat it. To do so more at his ease, he sends away the guards, and
only keeps Grimaud here to wait upon us. Grimaud is the man whom my
friend has recommended, and who is ready to second me in all things.
The moment of my escape is fixed for seven o'clock. At a few minutes
to seven"----

"At a few minutes to seven!" repeated La Ramee, perspiring with alarm.

"At a few minutes to seven," continued the duke, suiting the action to
the word, "I take the crust off the pie. Inside it, I find two
poniards, a rope-ladder, and a gag. I put one of the poniards to La
Ramee's breast, and I say to him--'My good friend, La Ramee, if you
make a motion or utter a cry, you are a dead man!'"

The duke, as we have already said, whilst uttering these last
sentences, had acted in conformity. He was now standing close to La
Ramee, to whom his tone of voice, and the sight of the dagger levelled
at his heart, intimated plainly enough that M. de Beaufort would keep
his word. Meanwhile Grimaud, silent as the grave, took out of the pie
the second poniard, the rope-ladder, and the gag. La Ramee followed
each of these objects with his eyes with a visibly increasing terror.

"Oh, Monseigneur!" cried he, looking at the duke with an air of
stupe