"Give it to me, my tiger," cried Cecily.

And hastily drawing the bolt with one hand, with the other she seized the
book.

But Jacques Ferrand did not abandon it until the moment he felt the door
yielding to his efforts.

But though the door yielded, it was only for about six inches, confined, as
it was, by the chain above mentioned. At this unforeseen obstacle, Jacques
Ferrand threw himself against the door, and shook it with a desperate
effort. Cecily, with the rapidity of thought, put the wallet between her
teeth, opened the window, threw a cloak into the court, and with great
dexterity making use of a cord previously fastened to the balcony, she let
herself down into the court, as rapidly and lightly as an arrow falls to
the ground.

Then, wrapping herself up in haste in the mantle, she ran to the porter's
lodge, opened it, drew the bolt, went out into the street, and jumped into
a carriage, which, since her residence at Jacques Ferrand's, was sent every
night by order of Baron de Graun, stationed not twenty steps from the
notary's mansion.

This carriage was quickly driven off, drawn by two stout horses. It reached
the boulevard before Jacques Ferrand had perceived the flight of Cecily.
Let us return to this monster.

Through the opening of the door it was impossible for him to see the window
by which the Creole escaped. With one mighty effort with his broad
shoulders, he burst the chain which confined the door, and rushed into the