They went carefully, to avoid being seen, in case any who dwelt in the place should be moving about the garden, or any eyes should be searching the moonlit grounds from the windows. The silence had emboldened Herman to this real madness, and he went forward to the door, alert and ready to strike a blow if anyone strove to bar the way.
They stepped in at the doorway and listened, but all was silent; not even a groan from that cell where Herman had left the Familiars. He saw what he had not seen before—a lighted lantern on the floor at one of the doors. It was not there when he had first gone to the cell, so that his thought was that one of the Familiars had left it there before entering the place where they found him.
"We'll take that with us, Heinrich," he whispered. "Mine is locked up in the cell."
Going swiftly down the steps, always ready if anyone approached, and past the open cells, they came to the opening in the rock, Heinrich's eyes moving in all directions to miss nothing. Herman watched him, and the thought came that he was projecting his mind to future days when he might use this passage and come to set some poor captive free, since it was his boasted delight to spoil the plans of the masters of the Holy House.
Heinrich watched with growing wonder how the rock door swung back noiselessly into its place after they had passed into the cavern, leaving no token of any opening.
"Show me how you opened it!" he exclaimed. "I may find my way in some day, and get someone out of this."
"You shall see," Herman answered, falling in with his desire. "Look at that spot there, where the rock by the door has scaled off ever so slightly."
"Here?" asked Heinrich, touching it with his finger.
Herman nodded. "Press hard."
Heinrich tried it again and again, watching with eager interest how the door moved back and forth at his will. Then the bearded face lit up with childish glee.