There was a grating sound, and a heavy step on the stairs, from whence came a gleam of light.
“God of Heaven!” panted the masked unknown. “It is too late! The executioner is coming!”
CHAPTER XV.
NEAR DEATH.
In truth the executioner was coming. Already he had stepped upon the first stair, and now there was no escape.
Mademoiselle Mystere caught up the lamp and blew out the light in a twinkling. It was done so swiftly that the man on the stair did not discover there had been a light in the cellar.
“Keep still! Trust me!”
The words were panted into Frank Merriwell’s ear, and then the mysterious unknown glided away into the darkness.
Down the stairs came the executioner. In his hand he bore a lamp, and the light showed his evil face, with the thin, cruel lips that so often curled back over the wolfish teeth.
It was Emile Durant.