Freedom was theirs.
But there was lively work before them. They glided away down the dark corridor.
Noiselessly they passed from one corridor to another, past the doors of cells where madmen prattled, until suddenly Old King Brady gave a gasp.
A light shone through the grated door of one cell.
It was more cheerfully furnished than the others. But the single occupant enchained the detectives.
A young girl, beautiful, though pale as marble.
Her face was clear and sweet. Her manner mild and gentle. Surely she was no maniac.
The Bradys paused and gazed upon the fair occupant of this cell as if spellbound.
She did not at the moment observe them.
When she did, finally, she gave a great start and half arose. A frightened light was in her eyes.