stant
observatory.

It may have been half a minute before I saw two officers advance to
the railing of the tower and signal: "Attention, La Trappe!"

Pencil and pad on my knee, I managed to use my field-glasses and jot
down the message:

"Peloton of mounted gendarmes goes to you as soon as possible.
Repeat."

I repeated, then raised my glasses. Another message came by flag:
"Attention, La Trappe. Uhlans reported near the village of
Trois-Feuilles; have you seen them?"

Prussian Uhlans! Here in the rear of our entire army! Nonsense! And I
signalled a vigorous:

"No. Have you?"

To which came the disturbing reply: "Be on your guard. We are ordered
to display the semaphore at danger. Report is credited at
headquarters. Repeat."

I repeated. Raising my glasses again, I could plainly see a young
officer, an unlighted cigar between his teeth, jotting down our
correspondence, while the other officer who had flagged me furled up
his flags and laid them aside, yawning and stretching himself to his
full height.

So distinctly did my powerful binoculars bring the station into range
that I could even see the younger officer light a match, which the
wind extinguished, light another, and presently blow a tiny cloud of
smoke from his cigar.

The Countess de Vassart had come up to where I was standing on the
gargoyle, balanced over the gulf below. Very cautiously I began to
step backward, for there was not room to turn around.

"Would you care to look at the Pigeonnier, madame?" I asked, glancing
at her over my shoulder.

"I beg you will be careful," she said. "It is a useless risk to
stand out there."

I had never known the dread of great heights which many people feel,
and I laughed and stepped backward, expecting to land on the parapet
behind me. But the point of my scabbard struck against the
battlements, forcing me outward; I stumbled, staggered, and swayed a
moment, striving desperately to recover my balance; I felt my gloved
fingers slipping along the smooth face of the parapet, my knees gave
way with horror; then my fingers clutched something--an arm--and I
swung back, slap against the parapet, hanging to that arm with all my
weight. A terrible effort and I planted my boots on the leads and
looked up with sick eyes into the eyes of the Countess.

"Can you stand it?" I groaned, clutching her arm with my other hand.

"Yes--don't be afraid," she said, calmly. "Draw me toward you; I
cannot draw you over."