"They won't hang you," she rejoined with a laugh; "my betrothed is a
lieutenant-general."

"Your betrothed!" I burst out in a fit of jealousy. "You are going to be
married?"

"And why not?"

"Swear that you will not marry before I die. Swear that you will be mine
sooner than this lieutenant-general's," I cried.

Edmée swore as I asked her, and she made me swear in return that her
promise should be a secret. Then I clasped her in my arms, and we
remained motionless until fresh shots announced that the fight had begun
again. Every moment of delay was dangerous now. I seized a torch, and
lifting a trap door made her descend with me to the cellar. Thence we
passed into a subterranean passage, and finally hurried forth into the
open, holding each other's hands as a sign of mutual trust. I found a
horse that had belonged to my grandfather in the forest, and this animal
carried us some miles from Roche-Mauprat, before it stumbled and threw
us. Edmée was unhurt but my ankle was badly sprained. Fortunately we
were near a lonely building called Gayeau Tower, the dwelling place of a
remarkable man called Patience, a peasant who was both a hermit and a
philosopher, and who, like Edmée, was filled with the new social gospel
of Rousseau. Between these two a warm friendship existed.

"The lamb in the company of the wolf," cried Patience when he saw us.

"My friend," replied Edmée, "welcome him as you welcome me. I was a