back.

On the opposite wall the light of the trooper's lanthorn fell brightly.
Another moment and the fellow would have reached and turned the corner
of the stairs, and his light must reveal them to him. But ere that
instant was passed Crispin had drawn his companion through, and closed
the door as softly as he had opened it. The chamber was untenanted
and almost bare of furniture, at which discovery Crispin breathed more
freely.

They stood there, and heard the ascending footsteps, and the clank-clank
of a sword against the stair-rail. A bar of yellow light came under the
door that sheltered them. Stronger it grew and farther it crept along
the floor; then stopped and receded again, as he who bore the lanthorn
turned and began to climb to the second floor. An instant later and the
light had vanished, eclipsed by those who followed in the fellow's wake.

"The window, Sir Crispin," cried Kenneth, in an excited whisper--"the
window!"

"No," answered Crispin calmly. "The drop is a long one, and we should
but light in the streets, and be little better than we are here. Wait."

He listened. The footsteps had turned the corner leading to the floor
above. He opened the door, partly at first, then wide. For an instant
he stood listening again. The steps were well overhead by now; soon they
would mount the last flight, and then discovery must be swift to follow.

"Now," was all Crispin said, and, drawing his sword he led the way
swiftly, yet cautiously, to the stairs once more. In passing he glanced
over the rails. The guardroom door stood ajar, and he caught the murmurs
of subdued conversation. But he did not pause. Had the door stood wide
he would not have paused then. There was not a second to be lost; to
wait was to increase the already overwhelming danger. Cautiously, and
leaning well upon the stout baluster, he began the descent. Kenneth
followed him mechanically, with white face and a feeling of suffocation
in his throat.

They gained the corner, and turning, they began what was truly the
perilous part of their journey. Not more than a dozen steps were there;
but at the bottom stood the guardroom door, and through the chink of
its opening a shaft of light fell upon the nethermost step. Once a stair
creaked, and to their quickened senses it sounded like a pistol-shot. As
loud to Crispin sounded the indrawn breath of apprehension from Kenneth
that followed it. He had almost paused to curse the lad when, thinking
hi