Dan paused an instant at the threshold; then, ashamed of his hesitation, he entered and closed the door.
"We can make a perfectly lovely rope of these," went on Kasia, her face shining. "I happen to know how—we teach plaiting in our kindergarten on the East side. First we must tear them into strips."
At this Dan helped her, and then the plaiting began. In twenty minutes as many feet of rough but serviceable rope was done.
"Suppose I take a look around the court," Dan suggested, "while you finish the plaiting. We'll need a lot of rope, if we have to go over the wall, but perhaps there's some other way out."
She went with him to the window, watched him as he tied the rope to the shutter-hinge, tested it to make sure that it was safe, and kissed him before he swung himself off. Then she leaned far over the sill and looked down into his upturned face, all her love in her eyes. A moment he hung there, gazing raptly up at her, then slipped down into the darkness; and Kasia, with brimming heart, returned to her task.
A very few minutes sufficed for Dan to convince himself that the only way of escape from the court lay over the wall. He found the door opening into the basement of the house, but it was a strong one and securely bolted, as a pressure of the shoulder proved; and there was no other entrance. The wall itself was not encouraging, for it was at least twelve feet high, and at the top was that formidable iron defence. It might be possible to throw their rope over one of the barbed points, pull himself up, and draw Kasia up after him. Men had accomplished far more difficult things than that to gain freedom!
He groped for the rope, found it, and mounted hand-over-hand to the window-sill, threw his arm over it, drew himself up—and hung there, paralysed, staring at what lay within.
Through the open door of the bedroom poured a stream of light, and beyond, on the bed, sat Kasia, her head bent, her fingers busy with the strips of cloth; and in the darkness of the outer room, peering in at her, was dimly outlined a huge and threatening figure. Dan could see the profile of the bearded face, half-turned away from him; could guess at the leer upon it, the evil light in its eyes. Then slowly, slowly, it drew closer to the bedroom door....
With teeth set and heart flaming, Dan drew himself quickly upon the sill, stepped lightly into the room, and crouched in the shadow of the table. Had the giant heard? He peeped out cautiously. No, he was still intent upon the working girl. But a weapon—he must have a weapon—and Dan's agonised glance, sweeping the room, fell upon the débris of the broken chair. Quickly he crept to it, and his fingers closed about one of the heavy legs.
Then, as he turned to seek the shelter of the table, Kasia glanced up and saw that bearded face. Terror froze the smile upon her lips; terror drained the strength from her limbs; terror strangled the cry in her throat....