“Too late,” said Arrelsford triumphantly, “you can’t go now, the guard is here.”
Edith could hear the approaching soldiers as well as anybody. The way was barred, she realised instantly. Well, if she could not escape, at least she could get out of sight. She turned and opened the nearest window and stepped out. Arrelsford knew that she could not go far, and that he could produce her whenever he wanted her. He made no objection to her departure that way, therefore. Instead he looked at Thorne.
“I have you just where I want you at last,” he said mockingly, as the trampling feet came nearer. “You thought you were mighty smart, but you will find that I can match your trick every time.”
Outside in the hall the men came to a sudden halt before the door. One of them knocked loudly upon it.
“What’s the matter here?” cried the Sergeant of the Guard without.
The handle was tried and the door was shoved violently, but the brass bolt held.
“Let us in!” he cried angrily.
Quick as a flash of lightning an idea came to Thorne.
“Sergeant!” he shouted in a powerful voice. “Sergeant of the Guard!”
“Sir!”