CHAPTER XII.
A DELIVERER.
"Is it you, Halmalo?"
"It is, monseigneur. You see now that turning stones do exist, and that it is possible to escape through here. I have come in time. But be quick. In ten minutes you will be in the midst of the forest."
"God is great," said the priest.
"Save yourself, monseigneur," cried they all.
"All of you first," said the marquis.
"You first, monseigneur," said the Abbé Turmeau.
"I shall be the last."
And the marquis added in a stern voice,—
"No struggle for generosity. We have no time to be magnanimous. You are wounded. I command you to live and to flee. Be quick and take advantage of this means of escape. Thank you, Halmalo."
"Monsieur le marquis," said the Abbé Turmeau. "Are we going to be separated?"
"Without doubt, below. We can only escape each for himself."
"Monseigneur, will you appoint a rendezvous?"
"Yes. A clearing in the forest, the Pierre-Gauvain. Do you know the place?"
"We all know it."
"I will be there to-morrow at noon. Let all who can walk be found there."
"We will be there."
"And we will begin the war over again," said the marquis.
In the meanwhile, Halmalo pressing against the turning stone had just noticed that it no longer moved. The opening could not be closed.
"Monseigneur," he said, "let us hurry, the stone resists
