The effect was instantaneous. The room was wrapped in darkness as dense as that outside, though the consequences of the act promised to be anything but pleasant in the course of a few minutes.
“Now, Avon, is your time!” called the captain in an undertone.
“I’m off; good-by,” came from the gloom near the door, where the sounds showed that he was engaged in raising the ponderous bar from its sockets.
Captain Shirril stepped hurriedly to the spot, and found the door closed but unfastened. Even in his haste the youth did not forget to shut it behind him, leaving to his friends the duty of securing it in place.
“He is gone; God be with him!” he whispered to his wife and servant, who with painfully throbbing hearts had stepped to his side.
While speaking, he refastened the structure, and in less time than it has taken to tell it everything inside was as before, with the exception that where there had been four persons, there were now only three.
All forgot their own danger for the moment 32 in their anxiety for the youth, who had so eagerly risked his own life to save them from death.
Bending his head, the captain held his ear against the tiny opening through which the latchkey had been drawn earlier in the evening, when the heavy bar was put in place. The Texan was listening with all the intentness possible.
“It seems impossible that he should get away,” was his thought, “and yet the very boldness of his plan may give it success.”