g time found it. He now had a
knife, but he could not move the hand that held it six inches from his
side. Stooping, he took the splinter between his teeth, and making the
rope taut, drew the sharp edge of the glass across it. Again and again
he drew it across, and at length he perceived that a strand was
severed. With a thrill of joy he settled to the slow, laborious and
painful task. Time passed, a long, long time, and yet the rope was but
half severed. As he worked he counted the moments with feverish dread,
his heart throbbed one passionate prayer: "Lord, let me save her!" Now
and then he glanced at the blackness of the night outside with a
terrible fear--though he knew it could not be yet--that he should see it
waver into moonlight. Another interval of toil, and he stood erect,
gathered his forces, made one supreme effort--and was free! There was
not time for the cords about his arms, but he must get rid of those
which fettered his ankles. An endless task it seemed, but hand and
friendly splinter accomplished it at last; and he sprang to the door. It
was locked. He dashed himself against it, once, twice, thrice, and it
crashed outwards, precipitating him into a large, bare room. He crossed
this, managed to open its unlocked door with his free hand, descended a
winding stair and came into the upper hall. It was in darkness, but up
the wide staircase streamed the perfumed light of many myrtle candles,
and with it laughter, and the sound of a man's voice singing to a lute.

CHAPTER XXV

THE ROAD TO PARADISE

The family and guests of Verney Manor were assembled in the great room.
The day had been one of confusion, haste and anxiety; but it was past,
and the stillness and forced inaction of the night was upon them. With
the readiness of those to whom danger is no novelty they seized the hour
and made the most of it. Sufficient unto the morrow was the evil
thereof.

The Colonel, weary from hard riding, but well satisfied with his
afternoon's work, had sunk into a great chair and challenged Dr. Anthony
Nash to a game of chess. "Everything is in train," he told them, "and
all quiet upon the plantations in this shire at least. I believe the
danger past. God be thanked!" Upon a settle piled with cushions lay
Captain Laramore, with a bandaged shoulder, a long pipe between his
teeth, and at his elbow a tankard of sack and an elderly Hebe in the
person of Mistress Lettice Verney. Patricia, sumptuously clad and
beau