"Soon," ironically, "may be too late."
"You mean—?"
"The hue and cry is out! I have long been expecting it; I do not understand why it didn't come before; unless a mountebank, locked up, was considered safe enough for the night—"
"Then some one knew—?"
"Some one?" A bitter laugh was quickly suppressed on the young man's lips. "Hark! Listen!"
"Sounds below! the soldiers!" exclaimed Sanchez, and started toward the window to look out, only to fall quickly back.
"What is it?" With his hand on the other's shoulder, the Black Seigneur whispered the question.
"A face! At the window!"
"So soon? The hounds are quicker than I thought! Or," drawing his sword, "it may be only one or two in advance. In that case—"
But no enemy, single or plural, met their view, either in front, or at the side of the guard-house; only the darkness, void, empty, and the bare rampart wall winding around the head of the Mount like a monster guardian dragon, asleep at his post.