He was not given an opportunity to count. There came a sudden thundering and hammering at the door. Then there was a summons to open in the name of France.
“The gendarmes!” gasped the Black Brothers. “They have tracked us here! They have located us at last!”
Bang! bang! bang!
The hammering at the door was furious and terrible.
Crash!—the door was falling!
In a moment the seven members of the murderous band took to flight, escaping from the cellar by the other door, and when the officers came swarming down the stairs, they found no one to arrest, but were greeted politely and cheerfully by the young American who stood with his back bound against a pillar in the middle of the cellar.
CHAPTER XV.
ANOTHER WARNING.
Frank’s adventures preceding his incarceration in the cellar, from which he was rescued by the gendarmes, can be briefly told. As soon as he realized that the Brothers had doomed him to death, and that his every move was shadowed, he set himself earnestly to the task of hunting down the band of assassins.
First he went to the police, and told the story of the mystery connected with the death of the Duke of Benoit du Sault, omitting all mention of the metal ball which he knew would be taken from him if he mentioned its existence. His story was laughed at by the police. They seemed to regard him as a crank, a person deranged, or one seeking notoriety, and treated him with small courtesy.