She held out her hand and there was a smile upon her lips. After a moment's hesitation Felix took her hand, held it an instant, and let it go. He did not believe this was a final parting. She spoke no word of farewell to the priest, but taking up the letter she had written to Christine, passed out of the room.
"She must be watched. She is a dangerous woman," said Father Bertrand.
"With her you have naught to do," said the Count, turning to him quickly. "I shall be ready. You have delivered your message. I have answered it. You may go."
Whatever the priest's knowledge of women may have been, he understood men. He understood Count Felix. Why should he resent his tone? He would fill the part that had been allotted to him. Father Bertrand's mind was full of graver matters than paltry quarrelling. Jean's escape had brought matters to a crisis.
Vayenne was full of excitement. Some searched high and low for the dwarf, others made rapid preparation for the wedding. The rabble filled the cafés and the taverns again, and hung about the corners of the streets.
Jean was nowhere to be found. As he slid down the dilapidated roof the men who had sprung upon the wall recovered sufficiently from their consternation to fire at him. Half a dozen bullets spattered about him, and it seemed impossible that he could escape being hit; indeed, so suddenly did he drop through a hole in the roof that they believed he was wounded, if not killed. No man, however, was ready to trust himself to that swinging rope, and one of the soldiers cut it from its fastening. At least no one should enter the castle that way.
No long time elapsed before men were searching the house which clung like a limpet to the castle wall, but there was no sign of the dwarf. If he had crept into some hole to die, even as a wounded animal will, that hole was not to be found.
But Jean was not hit, and knowing how soon the hue and cry would be at his heels, he lost no time in getting as far away from the house as possible. The fast deepening twilight favored him; he knew every alley and byway in this corner of the city, and he ran lightly, dodging into doorways and waiting now and again to escape the observation of some passers-by. Not many could know of his arrest and escape yet, but he did not want anyone to see him in this part of the city. He had always come here secretly. He had no haunt in the neighborhood where men would naturally look for him. The house by the wall, which legend peopled with ghosts, had served as a secure retreat before now. Jean reached it unobserved, and waited for more than an hour.
It had grown dark then, and the dwarf climbed down the face of the wall, and was soon sending his boat with vigorous strokes to the secret landing-place on the other side of the river.
Farmer Jacques had not seen him in his motley before, and he laughed aloud as the strange figure came in at the door.