None would care to cross the lowlands at night except under the guidance of one or two, who, like Jean, knew their way even in the dark.
Colville and Barebone had to help Jean to move the great casks stored in the crypt of the old chapel by which the entrance to the passage was masked.
"It is, I recollect having been told, more than a passage--it is a ramp," explained the Marquis, who stood by.

"It was intended for the passage of horses, so that a man might mount here and ride out into the mill-stream, actually beneath the mill-wheel which conceals the exit." Juliette, a cloak thrown over her evening dress, had accompanied them and stood near, holding a lantern above her head to give them light.

It was an odd scene--a strange occupation for the last of the de Gemosacs.
Through the gaps in the toppling walls they could hear the roar of voices and the occasional report of a firearm in the streets of the town below.

The door opened easily enough, and Jean, lighting a candle, led the way.

Barebone was the last to follow.