the gloom asunder. The burly Puritan lay, a black
silhouette against the silvered rocks, leaning far over, staring down
into the void. As I touched him, he turned his face toward me,
pointing below with one hand.

"We are securely blocked, Master Benteen," he asserted gruffly. "A fit
reward for associating with papists."

"Blocked?" failing to comprehend. "How? Are the savages already
astir?"

"Look for yourself. See yonder; lights are on the pathway as high as
the tree-bridge."

I dropped upon my knees, clinging to a bowlder, and peered over. He
spoke truth, and my heart rose choking into my throat. Resembling
innumerable fireflies tiny flames were gleaming along the entire front
of the cliff--torches borne by human hands. Breathless the three of us
clung there staring down, each realizing the utter futility of our
efforts at escape, yet none reckless enough to give the thought
utterance. The Puritan first found speech.

"The spawn of hell!" he growled savagely, shaking his great fist,
remembering the indignities of the altar-house. "Good Lord, deliver us
from this iniquity; lead us through the waters dry-shod, even as Thou
didst Thy people of old from the land of Egypt."

"Come," I said, "we must seek whatever hiding-place is within, and
trust God for it."

The priest looked at me pleadingly, his eyes like stars.

"I would at such an hour you were of my faith, Monsieur."

"I might do worse," I admitted, watching intently the lights on the
cliff-path, "but it was not the teaching of my childhood. There is one
below whose prayers are as yours."

"Madame de Noyan?"

I bowed my head in gesture of reverence.

"Yes, Monsieur, and whatever she loves is not far from my heart. But
come, we have scant time for preparation; no, do not endeavor to walk;
your weight is nothing to my arms."

There was no spot within where, even for a short period, we might hope
to avoid discovery, except the rock gallery. Here, crouching behind
the parapet, we could see without being seen, unless some savage
chanced to stray that way. At my order the sullen, psalm-quoting
preacher dragged the helpless old chief priest after him, and so we
went groping forward through the darkness of the short passage, until
we attained the stone steps. Stumbling blindly upward, our hearts
throbbing in realization of the peril that was closing us in, we flung
our bodies flat behind the concealing rocks, peering fearfully forth
into