"Your commands are my law," said the romantic Margot. "I will go
forthwith," and so saying, he went to the door.

"Hold, Sir!" said the lady, "it is not by that simple manner that you are
to descend--you must go the same way as my glove, out of the window."

"Out of the window, Madame!" said Monsieur Margot, with astonished
solemnity; "that is impossible, because this apartment is three stories
high, and consequently I shall be dashed to pieces."

"By no means," answered the dame; "in that corner of the room there is a
basket, to which (already foreseeing your determination) I have affixed a
rope; by that basket you shall descend. See, Monsieur, what expedients a
provident love can suggest."

"H--e--m!" said, very slowly, Monsieur Margot, by no means liking the
airy voyage imposed upon him; "but the rope may break, or your hand may
suffer it to slip."

"Feel the rope," cried the lady, "to satisfy you as to your first doubt;
and, as to the second, can you--can you imagine that my affections would
not make me twice as careful of your person as of my own. Fie! ungrateful
Monsieur Margot! fie!"

The melancholy chevalier cast a rueful look at the basket. "Madame," said
he, "I own that I am very averse to the plan you propose: suffer me to go
down stairs in the ordinary way; your glove can be as easily picked up
whether your adorer goes out of the door or the window. It is only,
Madame, when ordinary means fail that we should have recourse to the