ABSTRACT
In the forest of Fontainebleau shrubs spring from the bare rock; in Vansittart's helpless case, his solitary shred of hope budded from the fact of de Tournon's absence. His captors were now reduced to three in number. For the most unfortunate element in rascality is that honour among thieves cannot pass beyond the region of proverb. They never trust each other, so one of the gang was necessarily told off to watch M. de Tournon and to see that he did not look with too envious eyes on the share which fell to his companions. Vansittart did not flinch from the terrible inquiry set before him. As he lay there hour after hour he calculated every chance, however minute, however airy, however ridiculous, which might occur to a mind constantly practised in summing up every element of the most complex problems. Plans occurred to him such as came to the prisoners in the Bastille.
