from the open space in front of the gates to a point where it
was safe for the defenders to approach them without coming in line with
a possible volley from the forest.

A small force was left to guard the gate; the remainder returned as
quickly as possible to the chateau. The Greeks were unconscious, badly
battered by the clubbed guns. Browne, once more the doctor, attended
them and announced that they would be on their feet in a day or two--"if
complications don't set in." One of the prisoners was dead, shot through
the heart by the deadly Selim. The other had a shattered shoulder.

Immediately upon the return to the chateau, an inspection of the
dungeons was made, prior to an examination of the servants in the effort
to apprehend the traitor.

The three men who went down into the damp, chill regions below ground
soon returned with set, pale faces. There had been no traitor!

The man whose duty it was to guard the prisoners was found lying inside
the big cell, his throat cut from ear to ear, stone dead!

There was but one solution. He had been seized from within as he came to
the grating in response to a call. While certain fingers choked him into
silence, others held his hands and still others wrenched the keys from
his sash. After that it was easy. Deppingham, Chase and Selim looked at
each other in horror--and, strange as it may seem, relief.

Death was there, but, after all, Death is no traitor.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE JOY OF TEMPTATION

The revolting details were kept from the women. They were not permitted
to know of the ugly thing that sweltered in the dark corridor below
their very feet. Late in the night, a small body of men, acting under
orders, carried the unfortunate guard down into the valley and buried
him. Only the most positive stand on the part of the white men prevented
the massacre of the prisoners by the friends and fellow-servants of the
murdered man. A secret trial by jury, at a later day, was promised by
Lord Deppingham.

There was but little sleep in the chateau that night. The charity ball
was forgotten--or if recalled at all, only in connection with the
thought of what it came so near to costing its promoters.

No further disturbances occurred. A strict watch was preserved; the
picturesque drawbridge was lifted and there were lights on the terrace
and galleries; men slept within easy reach of their weapons. The siege
had begun in earnest. Men had been slain and their blood