“General, if I am not mistaken, the middle causeway leads straight to the abbey.”

“That is right; but we shall want lights to guide us in the vaults.”  Monk turned round.

“Ah!  I thought Digby was following us!” said he.  “So much the better; he will procure us what we want.”

“Yes, general, there is a man yonder who has been walking behind us for some time.”

“Digby!” cried Monk.  “Digby! come here, if you please.”

But instead of obeying, the shadow made a motion of surprise, and, retreating instead of advancing, it bent down and disappeared along the jetty on the left, directing its course towards the lodging of the fishermen.

“It appears not to be Digby,” said Monk.

Both had followed the shadow which had vanished.  But it was not so rare a thing for a man to be wandering about at eleven o’clock at night, in a camp in which are reposing ten or eleven thousand men, as to give Monk and Athos any alarm at his disappearance.

“As it is so,” said Monk, “and we must have a light, a lantern, a torch, or something by which we may see where to see our feet; let us seek this light.”

“General, the first soldier we meet will light us.”

“No,” said Monk, in order to discover if there were not any connivance between the Comte de la Fere and the fisherman.  “No, I should prefer one of these French sailors who came this evening to sell me their fish.  They leave to-morrow, and the secret will be better kept by them; whereas, if a report should be spread in the Scottish army, that treasures are to be found in the abbey of Newcastle, my Highlanders will believe there is a million concealed beneath every slab, and they will not leave stone upon stone in the building.”

“Do as you think best, general,” replied Athos, in a natural tone of voice, making evident that soldier or fisherman was the same to him, and that he had no preference.

Monk approached the causeway behind which had disappeared the person he had taken for Digby, and met a patrol who, making the tour of the tents, was going towards headquarters; he was stopped with his companion, gave the password, and went on.  A soldier, roused by the noise, unrolled his plaid, and looked up to see what was going forward.  “Ask him,” said Monk to Athos, “where the fishermen are; if I were to speak to him, he would know me.”

Athos went up to the soldier, who pointed out the tent to him; immediately Monk and Athos turned towards it.  It appeared to the general that at the moment they came up, a shadow like that they had already seen, glided into this tent; but on drawing nearer he perceived he must have been mistaken, for all of them were asleep pele mele, and nothing was seen but arms and legs joined, crossed, and mixed.  Athos, fearing lest he should be suspected of connivance with some of his compatriots, remained outside the tent.

“Hola!” said Monk, in French, “wake up here.”  Two or three of the sleepers got up.