“You are mad!” she cried. “They would have pierced your defenceless breast with a dozen stilettos if you had opened that door.”
“As well now as later; it is only the difference of a few minutes.”
Vivienne paced back and forth, apparently in great distress of mind, as if hesitating between love and duty. Again, the cries were heard outside:
“Open the door, or we shall break it in! Vandemar must die! Blood for blood!”
The assailants had secured possession of a heavy piece of timber, for it was heard to crash against the stout oaken door.
Vivienne clasped her hands and stood as if praying:
“‘Never open that door except it be in case of great extremity, and never divulge the secret unless it be to save human life.’ Father, thou knowest that the hour of extremity has come, and that a life, dearest to me of all on earth, must be saved.”
Again the battering-ram struck against the door, and Vivienne felt that it would not long resist such terrific blows. She drew a paper from her bosom and rapidly scanned it, repeating the words to fix them in her memory. The hinged mirrors were thrown back and the wonderful picture of the Garden of Eden was revealed. Hidden springs were quickly touched, and soon the massive dungeon door creaked, and flew open without the aid of human hands. A noisome vapour came from the dungeon chamber and all looked black within. Vivienne pointed to the open door:
“It is your only chance for life. You must go in!”
Vandemar looked in, then turned away.