“This is indeed a kindness, a condescending interest, of which I am wholly unworthy,” said La Tour, with energy; “how, Adele, can I ever show you the gratitude, the”—­

“Speak not of that, La Tour,” she hastily interrupted; “think now of nothing but your safety; trust implicitly to the guidance of Antoine; and, I trust, it will soon be insured.”

“And you,” said La Tour, “who have generously hazarded so much to aid me—­how can I be satisfied that you will escape unharmed? how can I leave you, in uncertainty and peril?”

“Believe me,” said Mad. d’Aulney, “I am perfectly secure; Antoine will desert his post to go with you, and suspicion must rest entirely on him, and father Gilbert.  The priest waits for you without the fort; and, once with him, pursuit will be unavailing, even if your flight is soon discovered; delay no longer, the morning watch approaches, and you must be far from hence, before another guard appears to relieve Antoine.  These garments will sufficiently disguise you,” she added, divesting herself of a loose robe and monkish cloak, which covered her own dress; “the soldier on duty will take you for a priest returning from the confessor’s room, and you will probably pass unquestioned, as the priests, of late, have free access here at all hours.”

“And whither do you go, and how elude observation?” asked La Tour.

“I have only to cross the passage, and descend a narrow staircase,” she replied; “both of which were left to the vigilance of Antoine; and I shall reach my own apartment, without encountering any one.”

A low rap was at that moment heard without the door; Mad. d’Aulney, at the sound, turned quickly to La Tour, and offering him her hand, with a melancholy smile, she said,

“It is time for us to part; and may the blessed saints be with you, St. Etienne, and guide you from hence in safety; we may never meet again, but my prayers will always intercede for your happiness and prosperity.”

“God bless you, Adele,” said La Tour, in a subdued voice, taking her hand respectfully, “for this night’s kindness; for all that you have ever shewn me, words are too feeble to express my gratitude; may heaven watch over you, and make you as happy as you deserve to be:  farewell!”

Mad. d’Aulney turned from him in silence; and Antoine instantly opening the door, in obedience to a signal from her, she addressed a parting word of good will to him, and hastily descended the stairs.  La Tour stood with his eyes fixed on her retiring figure, till Antoine ventured to urge his departure, by reminding him, that every moment’s delay increased the danger of discovery.  He started at the suggestion; and, wrapping the cloak around him, and drawing the cowl closely over his face, they proceeded in perfect silence, leaving the door secured, as before, by bolts and bars, in the hope that it might lull suspicion for a short time, or, at least, retard the moment of certain discovery.  They passed out into the open air, through a door which Antoine had the means of opening, and thus avoided the sentinels who guarded the usual passage.