"Perhaps something may happen. We can at least hide in the wall. They may not find us. Come."
He descended into the hole among the broken masonry and lowered Marishka gently beside him, and there for a moment upon the stairs he held her in his arms while they listened again for noise of pursuit along the dark passage. Silence.
She drew his head down until their lips met.
"Your fate, Hugh—whatever it is—shall be mine."
He smiled in the darkness. A love like this was worth fighting for. "We shall win—somehow," he whispered, "we must!"
Together slowly they retraced their steps to the crypt, where they lighted the candle and listened again, and now, faintly above, they heard the sound of a shot.
"They have not won through yet, Marishka," he said. "My cause is Goritz's now. We must hold the gate."
"I am not afraid," she said. "We can still fight."
He looked at her pale face in admiration, for the fire of resolution glowed in her eyes.
"Yes," he muttered grimly, "we can still fight." And then, "Are there any weapons here?"