It was
very dark there, but at the top they entered a room into which some
moonlight came, enough for John to see barrels, boxes and bags heaped on
the floor.
"A storeroom," said Weber. "The French are thrifty. The owner of this
house had splendor below, and he has kept provision for it above, almost
concealed by the narrowness of the door and stair. But we'll find a
broader stair on the other side, and then we'll descend through the
kitchen and beyond."
"This looks promising. You're a clever man, Weber, and my debt to you is
too big for me."
"Don't think about it. Be careful and don't make any noise. Here's the
other stair. You'd better hold to my coat again."
They stole softly down the stair, crossed an unused room, went down
another narrow, unused passage, and then, when Weber opened a door, John
felt the cool air of the night blowing upon his face. When the attempt
at escape began, he had not been so enthusiastic, because he was leaving
Julie behind, but with every step his eagerness grew and the free wind
brought with it a sort of intoxication. He did not doubt now that he
would make good his flight. Weber, that fast friend of his, was a
wonderful man. He worked miracles. Everything came out as he predicted
it would, and he would work more miracles.
"Where are we now?" asked John.
"This door is by the side of the kitchens. A little to the left is an
extensive conservatory, nearly all the glass of which has been shattered
by a shell, but that fact makes it all the more useful as a path for
us.
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