as many do,
upon the fearful engines men have made to inflict torture upon each
other, then there is this narrow stairway, and this still narrower
passage down to the sullen waters of the moat.

"The opening is just at the level of the water. It looks so small from
the opposite side, that one would think it but the size to admit the
passage of a dog; you would think it was caused by the loosening of some
stone in the wall -- no more. But yet it is large enough to admit the
passage of a human body; and where a body has passed out, sure a body
may pass in. There is no lock upon the door from the underground passage
to the moat; for what man would be so bold as find his way into the
Castle by the grim dungeons which hold such terrible secrets? If thou
hast the courage to enter thus, none will bar thy passage --"

"If!" echoed Gaston, whose hand was clenched and his whole face
quivering with emotion as he realized the fearful peril which menaced
his brother. "There is no such thing as a doubt. Raymond is there. I
come to save him."

The girl's eyes flashed with answering fire. She clasped her hands
together, and cried, with something like a sob in her voice:

"I knew it! I knew it! I knew that thou wert a true knight that thou
wouldst brave all to save him."

"I am his brother," said Gaston simply, "his twin brother. Who should
save him but I? Tell me, have I come in time? Have they dared to lay a
finger upon him yet?"

"Dared!" repeated the girl, with a curious inflection in her voice. "Of
what should they be afraid here in this tower, which has ever withstood
the attacks of foes, which no man may enter without first storming the
walls and forcing the gates? Thinkest thou that they fear God or man?
Nay, they know not what such fear is; and therein lies our best hope."

"How so?" asked Gaston quickly.

"Marry, for two reasons: one being that they keep but small guard over
the place, knowing its strength and remoteness; the other, that being
thus secure, they are in no haste to carry out their devil's work. They
will first let their prisoner recover of his hurts, that he slip not too
soon from their power, as weaklier victims ofttimes do."

"Then they have done naught to him as yet?" asked Gaston, in feverish
haste. "What hurts speakest thou of? Was he wounded in the fight, or
when they surrounded him and carried him off captive?"

"Not wounded, as I have heard, but sorely battered and bruised; and he
was brough