At last she thought the proper time
had come. The night was as black as jet; she could no longer see the
sentinel opposite; the country spread out like a pool of ink. She
strained her ear for an instant and made her decision. Passing near the
window was an iron ladder, the bars fastened to the wall, which mounted
from the wheel to the garret and formerly enabled the millers to reach
certain machinery; afterward the mechanism had been altered, and for a
long while the ladder had been hidden under the thick ivy which covered
that side of the mill.
Francoise bravely climbed out of her window and grasped one of the bars
of the ladder. She began to descend. Her skirts embarrassed her greatly.
Suddenly a stone was detached from the wall and fell into the Morelle
with a loud splash. She stopped with an icy shiver of fear. Then she
realized that the waterfall with its continuous roar would drown every
noise she might make, and she descended more courageously, feeling the
ivy with her foot, assuring herself that the rounds were firm. When she
was at the height of the chamber which served as Dominique's prison
she paused. An unforeseen difficulty nearly caused her to lose all her
courage: the window of the chamber was not directly below that of her
apartment.
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