woman.

"He is in the tower. Won't you stop and rest a minute?"

"Why, when we come down, if you don't mind."

"Then go up until you see a grated door--but what an old fool I am! You
know the way as well as I do."

"To be sure, to be sure.... But, in passing, permit me to introduce my
friend Durtal."

Durtal, somewhat flustered, made a bow in the darkness.

"Ah, monsieur, how fortunate. Louis is so anxious to meet you."

"Where is he taking me?" Durtal wondered as again he groped along behind
his friend, now and then, just as he felt completely lost, coming to the
narrow strip of light admitted by a barbican, and again proceeding in
inky darkness. The climb seemed endless. Finally they came to the barred
door, opened it, and found themselves on a frame balcony with the abyss
above and below. Des Hermies, who seemed perfectly at home, pointed
downward, then upward. They were halfway up a tower the face of which
was overlaid with enormous criss-crossing joists and beams riveted
together with bolt heads as big as a man's fist. Durtal could see no
one. He turned and, clinging to the hand rail, groped along the wall
toward the daylight which stole down between the inclined leaves of the
sounding-shutters.

Leaning out over the precipice, he discerned beneath him a formidable