"I will follow," she said firmly. "See, she has revived a little."
With words of encouragement they got Madame Rochal upright and the perilous descent began, Rowland with one arm around her, the other hand clinging to a projection of the roof. They moved slowly down, Rowland fearing another fainting spell which might cause her to lose her balance, but the assurance of her companion gave her the use of the last remnants of her strength, and they reached the ledge in safety, where she clung to the woodwork of the window while Rowland entered and then half-dragged, half-lifted her within. He carried her then to the couch upon which he laid her and then returned for Tanya. But just outside the window he met her coming down alone and in a moment had her in his arms and safe with the suit-case within the room.
But safe for how long? The security of their hiding place depended upon their unknown host or hostess. What sort of a house was this and who was the occupant of the disordered couch? While Tanya knelt beside Madame Rochal, unfastening her clothing and trying to learn the extent of her injuries, Rowland cautiously unlocked the door and peered out down the stairs. A light burned on a lower floor, showing a shabby hallway with torn wall-paper, a broken chair or two, but no person in sight. Then he made out the sound of voices below, talking excitedly, and he realized that the commotions of the street had entered here. Outside he could still hear the hoarse cries of the men in the street. The story of the raiding of the hall above must now have reached all the neighborhood.
Leaving the door open, he returned to the bedside of Zoya Rochal. In this new care so suddenly thrown upon her, Tanya had forgotten her own danger and Rowland's. She had loosened Madame Rochal's clothing, and had found the injury, a flesh wound in the side below the arm-pit.
To leave Zoya there--to go down with Tanya and lose themselves in the crowd outside--the thought occurred to Rowland, but when Tanya spoke, he dismissed it.
"We must do something--make a bandage, get some water, some restoratives," she whispered. "We can't let her die."
"But----"
"We'll be discovered by the one who sleeps here sooner or later. We must take our chances," she said quietly.
She shamed him. From what new source had she drawn the moral and physical courage to meet this new test of her womanhood? Even Rowland was weary and anxious, yet here beside him undismayed by her night of terror sat this woman he loved, calmly ministering to one who, though perhaps not her enemy, had tonight been proclaimed of a class beyond the pale of decent women. He could not know that perhaps it was Zoya's very frailty that had given Tanya strength. And yet to know what sort of woman she was he had only to remember Tanya there in the hall of the committee, standing pale but fearless while she defied the terrible von Stromberg. This was the girl who now commanded the situation, the mistress of his will as well as his heart. He wanted to tell her all that he thought of her, to live for another space this one joyous moment of communion, so soon broken; but her tone was urgent. There was nothing but to obey.
He had managed at last to find matches and a candle which he lighted and placed upon the dressing stand at the head of the bed.