the door and fumbled until he found the
keyhole and got the key into it. Then he turned it and pushed the door
open--and the cat ran out into the passage before him.

XVI

THE RAT TO THE RESCUE

Marco walked through the passage and into the kitchen part of the
basement. The doors were all locked, and they were solid doors. He ran
up the flagged steps and found the door at the top shut and bolted
also, and that too was a solid door. His jailers had plainly made sure
that it should take time enough for him to make his way into the world,
even after he got out of the wine-cellar.

The cat had run away to some part of the place where mice were
plentiful. Marco was by this time rather gnawingly hungry himself. If
he could get into the kitchen, he might find some fragments of food
left in a cupboard; but there was no moving the locked door. He tried
the outlet into the area, but that was immovable. Then he saw near it
a smaller door. It was evidently the entrance to the coal-cellar under
the pavement. This was proved by the fact that trodden coal-dust marked
the flagstones, and near it stood a scuttle with coal in it.

This coal-scuttle was the thing which might help him! Above the area
door was a small window which was supposed to light the entry. He
could not reach it, and, if he reached it, he could not open it. He
could throw pieces of coal at the glass and break it, and then he could
shout for help when people passed by. They might not notice or
understand where the shouts came from at first, but, if he kept them
up, some one's attention would be attracted in the end.

He picked a large-sized solid piece of coal out of the heap in the
scuttle, and threw it with all his force against the grimy glass. It
smashed through and left a big hole. He threw another, and the entire
pane was splintered and fell outside into the area. Then he saw it was
broad daylight, and guessed that he had been shut up a good many hours.
There was plenty of coal in the scuttle, and he had a strong arm and a
good aim. He smashed pane after pane, until only the framework
remained. When he shouted, there would be nothing between his voice
and the street. No one could see him, but if he could do something
which would make people slacken their pace to listen, then he could
call out that he was in the basement of the house with the broken
window.

"Hallo!" he shouted. "Hallo! Hallo! Hallo! Hallo!"

But vehicles were pa