oad to Charenton and you can send him after me." And he
turned to the staircase.

"Not that way, if you please," said Borromee, "the lady is coming up,
and she does not wish to meet any one."

"You are right," said Chicot, smiling, "I will take the little
staircase."

"Do you know the way?"

"Perfectly." And Chicot went out through a cabinet which led to another
room, from which led the secret staircase. The room was full of armor,
swords, muskets, and pistols.

"They hide Jacques from me," thought Chicot, "and they hide the lady,
therefore of course I ought to do exactly the opposite of what they want
me to do. I will wait for the return of Jacques, and I will watch the
mysterious lady. Oh! here is a fine shirt of mail thrown into a corner;
it is much too small for the prior, and would fit me admirably. I will
borrow it from Gorenflot, and give it to him again when I return." And
he quietly put it on under his doublet. He had just finished when
Borromee entered.

Chicot pretended to be admiring the arms.

"Is monsieur seeking some arms to suit him?" asked Borromee.

"I! mon Dieu! what do I want with arms?"

"You use them so well."

"Theory, all theory; I may use my arms well, but the heart of a soldier
is always wanting in a poor bourgeois like me. But time passes, and
Jacques cannot be long; I will go and wait for him at the Croix Faubin."

"I think that will be best."

"Then you will tell him as soon as he comes?"

"Yes."

"And send him after me?"

"I will not fail."

"Thanks, Brother Borromee; I am enchanted to have made your
acquaintance."

He went out by the little staircase, and Borromee locked the door behind
him.

"I must see the lady," thought Chicot.

He went out of the priory and went on the road he had named; then, when
out of sight, he turned back, crept along a ditch and gained, unseen, a
thick hedge which extended before the priory. Here he waited to see
Jacques return or the lady go out.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE AMBUSH.

Chicot made a slight opening through the hedge, that he might see those
who came and went. The road was almost deserted as far as he could see;
there was no one but a man poorly clothed measuring the ground with a
long, pointed stick. Chicot had nothing to do, and therefore was
preparing to watch this man, when a more important object attracted his
attention.

The window of Gorenflot's room opened with folding-doors on to a
balcony, and Chicot saw