"But, my dear son," he expostulated, pale and terrified, "what harm have I ever done you? Why should you wish to kill me?"
"Have I not already told you," I answered impatiently, "that I have no design upon your life? If you wish to live, you have only to open the doors for me, and I shall be your friend forever after."
Here I caught sight of the keys, which were lying on the table, and, seizing them, I told him to come with me,
and to make as little noise as possible. He was obliged to comply.
As he opened each of the doors that barred our progress, he sighed and repeated, "Ah, my son, my son! Who would ever have thought this of you?"
"Silence, good Father, not a sound!" I reiterated every few moments, on my side.
At last we came to a kind of barrier placed in front of the main entrance from the street. I fancied myself already free, and was standing behind the Superior with my candle in one hand and my pistol in the other.
While he was hurriedly removing the barrier, a servant who slept in a small room near by, hearing the rattling of the bolts, jumped out of bed and looked out of his door. The good Father, thinking, apparently, that this man
