"Anne!" he cried. "Anne! Are you
awake?"
"What is it?" I said, sitting up and looking at him.
"Marie," he began, "has--"
But there was no need for him to finish. I saw that Marie was
standing at the far side of the room by the unglazed window;
which, being in a sloping part of the roof, inclined slightly
also. He had raised the shutter which closed it, and on his tip-
toes--for the sill was almost his own height from the floor--was
peering out. I looked sharply at Croisette. "Is there a gutter
outside?" I whispered, beginning to tingle all over as the
thought of escape for the first time occurred to me.
"No," he answered in the same tone. "But Marie says he can see a
beam below, which he thinks we can reach."
I sprang up, promptly displaced Marie, and looked out. When my
eyes grew accustomed to the gloom I discerned a dark chaos of
roofs and gables stretching as far as I could see before me.
Nearer, immediately under the window, yawned a chasm--a narrow
street. Beyond this was a house rather lower than that in which
we were, the top of its roof not quite reaching the level of my
eyes.
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