AnguishHad Véronique been alone, she would have yielded to one of those moods of despondency which her nature, brave though it was, could not escape in the face of the unrelenting animosity of fate. But in the presence of Stéphane, who she felt to be the weaker and who was certainly exhausted by his captivity, she had the strength to restrain herself and announce, as though mentioning quite an ordinary incident:
"The ladder has swung out of our reach."
Stéphane looked at her in dismay:
"Then . . . then we are lost!"
"Why should we be lost?" she asked, with a smile.
"There is no longer any hope of getting away."
"What do you mean? Of course there is. What about François?"
"François?"
"Certainly. In an hour at most, François will have made his escape; and, when he sees the ladder and
