h man carried a poniard, a provision of chocolate, and
a set of house-breaking tools. They climbed the outer walls with
scaling-ladders, and crossed the cemetery of the convent. Montriveau
recognised the long, vaulted gallery through which he went to the
parlour, and remembered the windows of the room. His plans were made and
adopted in a moment. They would effect an entrance through one of the
windows in the Carmelite's half of the parlour, find their way along
the corridors, ascertain whether the sister's names were written on the
doors, find Sister Theresa's cell, surprise her as she slept, and carry
her off, bound and gagged. The programme presented no difficulties to
men who combined boldness and a convict's dexterity with the knowledge
peculiar to men of the world, especially as they would not scruple to
give a stab to ensure silence.

In two hours the bars were sawn through. Three men stood on guard
outside, and two inside the parlour. The rest, barefooted, took up their
posts along the corridor. Young Henri de Marsay, the most dexterous
man among them, disguised by way of precaution in a Carmelite's robe,
exactly like the costume of the convent, led the way, and Montriveau
came immediately behind him. The clock struck three just as the two men
reached the dormitory cells. They soon saw the position. Everything was
perfectly quiet. With the help of a dark lantern they read the names
luckily written on every door, together with the picture of a saint or
saints and the mystical words which every nun takes as a kind of
motto for the beginning of her new life and the revelation of her
last thought. Montriveau reached Sister Theresa's door and read the
inscription, _Sub invocatione sanctae matris Theresae_, and her motto,
_Adoremus in aeternum_. Suddenly his companion laid a hand on his
shoulder. A bright light was streaming through the chinks of the door.
M. de Ronquerolles came up at that moment.

"All the nuns are in the church," he said; "they are beginning the
Office for the Dead."

"I will stay here," said Montriveau. "Go back into the parlour, and shut
the door at the end of the passage."

He threw open the door and rushed in, preceded by his disguised
companion, who let down the veil over his face.

There before them lay the dead Duchess; her plank bed had been laid on
the floor of the outer room of her cell, between two lighted candles.
Neither Montriveau nor de Marsay spoke a word or uttered a cry; but