r roof of an
outbuilding against any of the windows made this means of escape
possible. He felt sure such a way did not exist. He might have dropped
from one of the windows in safety, but the woman could not do so. He had
not answered her question when there was a new sound close beside them,
a heavy tread.

"Stand close to the wall," he said. "Keep near, and whatever happens do
not speak."

Some one was coming up stairs which were close to them, and in the dark.
Barrington strained his ears to locate the position. If they were not
seen escape was possible.

A thin, straight line of light was suddenly drawn perpendicularly, just
in front of him, and then a door was opened. A man, one of the inn
servants, carrying a candle, stepped into the passage. The light fell
directly on the figures standing by the wall. The man was startled. So
sudden an encounter was unusual, and in these days the unusual was
dangerous. Only a fraction of time was necessary to bring him to this
conclusion, but in it, Barrington had also reached a conclusion equally
definite. As the man opened his mouth to call out, his throat was seized
in a viselike grip and only the ghost of a sound gurgled and was lost.
The candle fell to the floor. The noise of its fall seemed horribly
loud.

"Stamp out the light," Barrington said in a low tone.

Jeanne did so, obeying him promptly.

The man was a child in Barrington's hands. His efforts to unloose the
gripping fingers at his throat were feeble and futile. He was borne
backward and downward to the floor, a knee was upon his chest, bending
and cracking his bones, and then came oblivion.

"Come," said Barrington.

She was close behind him and they went down the narrow stairs which had
a bend in them. There was a door at the bottom which was open, a light
beyond.

Pistol in hand, Barrington stepped quickly into the kitchen. It was
empty. There was a door between the windows, and the next moment they
were in the garden. He took the woman's hand, guiding her to the broken
place in the wooden fence. There he paused, looking back and listening.
There was no sound of an alarm yet, no cries to suggest that the fiends
had rushed up the stairs to wreak their savagery on a defenseless woman.
For a moment Barrington contemplated taking a horse from the stable, but
he dared not run the risk of the delay. Chance must bring them the means
of entering Paris in safety.

"We must run, mademoiselle. My servant is wa