I had not thought of that, and I nodded. It seemed that the lead
was passing out of my hands and I might resign myself. Still one
thing I would have. As Marie was to come last, I would go first.
My weight would best test the rope. And accordingly it was so
decided.

There was no time to be lost. At any moment we might be
interrupted. So the plan was no sooner conceived than carried
out. The rope was made fast to my left wrist. Then I mounted on
Marie's shoulders, and climbed--not without quavering--through
the window, taking as little time over it as possible, for a bell
was already proclaiming midnight.

All this I had done on the spur of the moment. But outside,
hanging by my hands in the darkness, the strokes of the great
bell in my ears, I had a moment in which to think. The sense of
the vibrating depth below me, the airiness, the space and gloom
around, frightened me. "Are you ready?" muttered Marie, perhaps
with a little impatience. He had not a scrap of imagination, had
Marie.

"No! wait a minute!" I blurted out, clinging to the sill, and
taking a last look at the bare room, and the two dark figures
between me and the light. "No!" I added, hurriedly.
"Croisette--boys, I called you cowards just now. I take it back!
I did not mean it! That is all!" I gasped. "Let go!"

A warm touch on my hand. Something like a sob.