very existence he was doubtful. The narrow slits which lighted the cell
in which he was confined might look into an inner court, or the cell
itself might be below the surface of the soil. The legend of the
troubadour who discovered King Richard of England's place of captivity by
singing without the walls had always been present in his mind, but no
such plan would be practicable here. He knew no song which his father,
and his father only, would recognize; and even did he know such a song,
the appearance of anyone loitering in the open space outside the moat
round the Bastille singing at intervals at different points would have
instantly attracted the attention of the sentries on the walls. Nor, even
did he discover that his father was lying a prisoner in one of the cells
facing outwards in the fortress, did he see any possibility of compassing
his escape. The slits were wide enough only for the passage of a ray of
light or the flight of an arrow. No human being could squeeze himself
through them, and even if he could do so he would need a long rope to
descend into the moat.

One day Ronald talked over his ideas with Malcolm, who declared at once
that they were impossible of execution.

"There is scarcely a case on record," he said, "of an escape from either
the Bastille or the Chatelet, and yet there have been scores of prisoners
confined in them with friends of great influence and abundant means. If
these have been unable, by bribing jailers or by other strategy, to free
their friends, how could a stranger, without either connection,
influence, or wealth, hope to effect the escape of a captive were he
certain that he was within the walls. Do not waste your thought on such
fancies, Ronald. If your father is still in prison it is by influence
only, and influence exerted upon the king and exceeding that of your
father's enemies, that his release can be obtained.