moment, the heavy
sleeper said something aloud and stirred upon the bed.

This was sufficient to satisfy his companion, who lay down again. But
it was impossible to attempt more for a time, and the would-be fugitive
was forced to crouch there, letting the valuable moments fly, and
fretting, as he knew how impossible it would be for him to escape if he
waited till day.

At last, with the feeling of despair upon him strongly, he seized the
table again, and, lifting one end, drew it slowly towards him, this time
finding, to his great delight, that the rug glided with it over the
oaken boards, so that he knew that with a little more effort, the
obstacle would be sufficiently far away for him to open the door.

Had it been light, he would have seen the danger, but, all he realised
was that the table came along more and more easily, and then in the
black darkness there was a loud crash, the coffer placed upon the table
had, consequent upon its being inclined, glided slowly over the polished
surface, till it was right beyond the edge, and then it was but a matter
of moments before it overbalanced and fell.

Scarlett heard two loud ejaculations and the leaping of his enemies from
their beds; but, quick as thought, he had dragged the door open, bounded
into the corridor, and ran to the left to the top of the stairs.

He was in the act of seizing the balustrade, when shouts came from the
door he had left. Worse still, he saw a faint spark of light below him,
and heard the challenge of the sentry in the hall.

To have tried to escape by the passage would have meant the discovery of
the way, for there was not time to get the stair open, so without
hesitation, as he heard the alarm spreading, he dashed down the stairs,
followed by the shouts of the two officers as other doors were opened,
and the noise of gathering feet could be heard.

There was a sharp flash, a loud report, and Scarlett heard the thud in
the wainscot beside him as he leaped the last half-dozen stairs, right
on to the sentinel, who was driven backward by the force of the blow,
while Scarlett darted across the hall, through the porch, and between
two of the men stationed outside so closely that they touched him.

"Fire, fire!" roared a voice from the gallery, and matches were blown,
and shots went whizzing after the fugitive, who was hard followed by
half a dozen of the heavily armed men.

But the darkness held good, and Scarlett had the advantage of kno