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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Honor of the Name"

No filaments, no rough bits of hemp, as usual after
a break; the surface was perfectly even.
The corporal comprehended what Maurice had comprehended below.
"The scoundrels have cut the rope!" he exclaimed, with a frightful oath.
And a recollection of what had happened three or four hours previous
arose in his mind.
"This," he thought, "explains the noise which the poor baron heard in
the next room! And I said to him: 'Nonsense! it is a rat!'"
Then he thought of a very simple method of verifying his conjectures. He
passed the cord about the crowbar and pulled it with all his strength.
It parted in three places.
This discovery appalled him.
A part of the rope had fallen with the unfortunate baron, and it was
evident that the remaining fragments tied together would not be long
enough to reach to the base of the rock.
From this isolated ledge it was impossible to reach the ground upon
which the citadel was built.
"You are in a fine fix, Corporal," he growled.
Honest Bavois looked the situation full in the face, and saw that it was
desperate.


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