ould hold it.
The crackle of small arms after a slight lull rose in intensity to a
continuous roar. And while Renwick was making the end of his rope fast
around a huge granite block, there was a tremendous explosion which
seemed to tear the bloody sky to tatters.

"A magazine or a mine," muttered Renwick.

She smiled at him bravely, and resumed her watch of the windows of the
castle. Here in the open, hidden from the courtyard beyond the bulk of
the buildings, they could hear nothing of what was passing at the
drawbridge gate. The silence seemed ominous. Had Windt's men succeeded
in bridging the gap? As yet there were no signs of light in the castle
windows, except the lurid reflections of the northern sky. But in any
event there was no time to spare. Renwick tied a large knot and a loop
in the end of the rope and then carefully lowered it over the northern
wall, measuring its length by his arms, as it went over. Fifty yards,
sixty, seventy, eighty--when it stretched taut. Eighty yards! Sick with
anxiety, he crawled upon his stomach to the edge of the precipice and
peered over into the abyss.

The rope swung like a giant pendulum from side to side. By the luminous
heavens he could just see the loop at its end--at least seventy feet
from the counterscarp. Seventy feet--or fifty or even twenty-five--for
Marishka sure death among the welter of jagged rocks below!

Slowly he rose and faced her. She read the truth in his dejection.

"The rope is too short," he muttered.

She caught him by the hand.

"I can climb down by----"

"No, no," he said in sudden horror, "it is not to be thought of. You, at
least, are safe."

"But you----?"

"Perhaps something may happen. We can at least hide in the wall. They
may not find us. Come."

He descended into the hole among the broken masonry and lowered Marishka
gently beside him, and there for a moment upon the stairs he held her in
his arms while they listened again for noise of pursuit along the dark
passage. Silence.

She drew his head down until their lips met.

"Your fate, Hugh--whatever it is--shall be mine."

He smiled in the darkness. A love like this was worth fighting for. "We
shall win--somehow," he whispered, "we must!"

Together slowly they retraced their steps to the crypt, where they
lighted the candle and listened again, and now, faintly above, they
heard the sound of a shot.

"They have not won through yet, Marishka," he said. "My cause is
Goritz's no