of the road along the Dukla, he heard the clatter of
transport, and the calls of men.

All of this Renwick's mind assimilated in his moment of rest and
recuperation, but beside the loophole, clearly defined by the flashes in
the heavens, his searching glances made out the uprights of another
door. Here, perhaps----He bent forward, listening at its cracks, and
then knelt, searching for a latch or keyhole. Nothing. But as he turned
his back to the loophole, shutting out the starlight, he imagined that
he saw something white upon the stone flagging. He leaned forward to
pick it up and found that his fingers were softly illuminated. The spot
was the reflection of a dim light within the room. He put his face close
to the floor and found the aperture, a small hole of irregular shape in
the baseboard of the door. A candle. Someone, then, was within? He put
his ear to the chink and listened. A muffled sound, faint, but
agonizingly definite--a woman's sobs! Renwick straightened and then
listened again. Silence. Perhaps he had been mistaken. No. There it was
again--fainter now. He ran his fingers softly along the edges of the
woodwork, seeking a latch, a handle, but could find none. If there were
a secret spring, it was so deftly hidden that he could not discover it.
But in the brief moments of his search he had decided that he must enter
this room at all costs. And so rising to his feet, he gave up trying to
find the secret of admittance and slowly put his weight against the
woodwork. It made no sound nor yielded to his pressure. He tried it
again with the same results. Then despairing, and desperate, he struck a
match and ran it quickly along the jambs. The hinges were concealed, but
he found signs of them at the right. To the left, then--another match--a
handle, a knob--where? And then just as the third match went out he
found it--a flat, iron lever which moved around a swivel, cunningly let
into the woodwork. He caught it quickly in his fingers, twisted it down,
and then, automatic in hand, he pushed upon the door which opened and
swung inward upon its hinges.

Renwick waited for a moment in the doorway, pistol in hand, blinking at
the candle upon the table, like a cat emerging from a cellar, searching
the vast room for its occupant. A huge room with wainscoted walls, with
heavy hangings at the windows, massive furniture, a high canopied
bed----

He took a few quick steps forward into the room, for a figure clothed in
sof