Bobichel was wide awake and on his feet. He opened the door for Caillette. Her father was on the bed asleep. Fanfar was asleep, too, sitting in his chair.

Fanfar started up. "Caillette!" he exclaimed.

"Yes--wake my father at once!"

"He is so weary, and needs rest."

"It is a question of your liberty--his liberty and your lives!"

Gudel now opened his eyes.

"What is the matter, child?" he asked.

"The police are coming to arrest you!"

"What nonsense!"

Caillette instantly repeated the disconnected words uttered by La Roulante.

"She can't know anything!" said Gudel, uneasily. "Bobichel!" he called.

"I am here, master!" answered the clown.

"Where is Robeccal?"

"I don't know--he went away three hours ago."

"Where was he going?"

"I don't know--I was too sleepy to ask."

Gudel questioned Caillette again. "Had La Roulante distinctly spoken of papers?"

It was only too clear that there had been spies in their camp.

"Fanfar," said Gudel, "when one accepts a mission like ours his life no longer belongs to himself. We must fly, and at once!"

"But how?"

"We will take the horses that belong to the chariot."

"And do you forget me, father?" asked Caillette.

"No--I confide you to Bobichel."

"Oh! Fanfar, do not leave me!" sobbed the young girl.

"Dear child, there are great dangers to run!"

"Yes, but with you I should not be afraid."

"And master--am I to be left behind?" asked the clown.

"Very well, we four will go, then," answered Gudel. "But you forget that we have not horses enough," he added.

"But I have legs," interposed Bobichel, "and I can overtake you wherever you go. You can take Caillette on behind."

"Yes, that would do very well, would it not, Fanfar?" asked the girl, eagerly.

"Where shall we go?" said Fanfar to Gudel.

"We had best take the road to Paris. If we are pursued, we shall find a hiding-place there as well as anywhere else."

"Shall we wake Schwann?" asked the clown.

"No, no--what is the use? I do not wish him to be compromised, either, and when they question him they will find that he really knows nothing.

You, Bobichel, bring out the horses--the saddles are in the wagon. Go, and make haste!"

Gudel here stopped short.

"My wife!" he said.

"But, master, it is she who has betrayed you!" cried Bobichel.

"It is she who has saved us!" Gudel replied.

"Yes, but without meaning to do so."

"I must see her, at all events."

And Gudel hurried to her room, and beheld her lying in a drunken stupor on the floor. He shook his head sadly.

"After all, she has nothing to fear, and we may as well part in this way as in any other--the end was coming!"

And he returned to his daughter and his friends, who in the meantime had been making a rope of the sheets and blankets on the bed. With their aid Bobichel dropped from the window.

"Now it is my turn!" said Caillette, and, light as a bird, she seized the rope.

"Take care, child! Take care!" cried Fanfar.

"Would it pain you," she asked quickly, "if I came to grief?"

"Hush! child."

Little Caillette was very gay, and it was with a pretty, childish laugh that she swung herself to the ground, where in two minutes her father and Fanfar also stood.

The two horses, all saddled, stood ready.

"You have the papers, Fanfar?" asked Gudel, in a whisper.