The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1914-03-06


blaze of the torches waved, shadowy,
gigantic, across the water and the cas-
tie wall; he heard the soldiers speak
in short deep words; it was like an
evil dream, and it slipped past, torch
eS and dark-swinging shadows and
heavy tread of men and stern voices,
like a dream. The heavy door shut,
the lights were gone, everything was
still.
! More dead than alive, Francois
dripped from the water-butt. The
hardest part of his nights job, the
part that needed all his strength of
body and brain, was Immediately be-
fore him, and he stood nerveless, with
clicking teeth, as limp as the tradition
al drowned rat. A moment he stood
so, utterly discouraged, without conf
dence, without hope. Then with his
trembling lips he framed words, words
familiar to him for years, and with
that, in a shock, he felt strength and
courage rising in him like slow calm
food. 1t was not less a miracle be-
cause there was no sign in the
heavens, no earthquake or lightning;
it was not less a miracle because
many people living now might tell of
a like help in fearful need. AS it was
once long time ago, the water of his
blood was changed into wine. So the
prisoner stood in the courtyard in the
blackness of midnight and found him
self ready.
He CROPPED his way to the shed he
had seen from the governors window;
with his old boyish agility he scram-
bled up its sloping roof and felt for the
coping he had noticed-the coping
wide enough for a mans foot; he had
found it; he had found a water pipe
above to help him stand on it; he was
on the coping, face fiat to the wall,
working his way with infinite delicate
care to the window of the governor.
He never knew how long that part
took; it seemed great while, though
not many feet lay between the shed
and the window. Then he felt the
stone sill of the window; his hand
crept up; it was open-wide open.
With a strong pull he had swung him
self over and stood in the dark, in the
governors bedroom.
Stood and listened, hardly daring for
the first instant to draw the long
breath he sorely needed. Then he
smiled. No necessity for that caution
at least. The governor was snoring a
heavy aggressive snore which would
have drowned most noises. Francois
stood quiet till his eyes had grown ac-
customed to the shadows, and then
they searched about quickly. All!
there they were, the governors clothes.
On chair by his bed. With wary
steps he stole across. He lifted off
one or two things and suddenly there
was jingle.
"Ah!" growled the governor and
flung out his hand, and the snore came
to full stop.
The hand searched the darkness
second; all but touched that of Fran
co.'s, then fell Imply, the head turned
away, with deep sigh. Like statue
Francois stood, frozen to the floor, and
dared not look at the figure stirring in
the bed, for fear his gaze might awake
the sleeper. For he slept; the sound
of the keys had only Jared some
chord in his uneasy dream. Long min
utes after the snoring was in full prog
ress again Francois waited, and then
with careful fingers he clasped the en-
tire bunch of keys softly and carried
them into the next room.
There was low light there, on the
writing-table. Francois slipped the
thin, old, brass key which he knew off
from the bunch; he glanced about
quickly and found the flint and steel
on its table and put them in his peck.
ct; he took down that small saber,
with its well-polished scabbard, and
buckled it about himself; then a
thought came to him. A sheet of pa
per lay on the governors writing-table
as if he had been about to write let
ter; pen and ink were ready. The
prisoner dropped into the governors
chair and wrote
MY dear count, | cannot run away
without leaving a good-by for you and
a word of thanks for the kindness you
have shown me. Be sure | shall not
forget our evenings together and shall
be glad when | hear of your promo
ton, as | am sure | shall hear.
heartily hope l am not going to make
trouble for you. But have to go-you
will understand that. With thousand
thanks again l am, count, your CRATE
full prisoner-Francois Beaupre."
Still the count snored. Francois,
alert, stood and listened as he folded
the note carefully and laid it under a
weight on the table. Then he tempted
Providence no longer. He slid the bat
tered, bright, old, brass key softly in
to the lock, let himself into the dark
stairway, relocked the door on the in
side, CROPPED his way painfully down
the steep stairs into the wine-cellar.