Those moments seemed long-drawn minutes, and then relief came in a long, low sigh; and as that ended, the breathing of a sleeper and a restless movement were plainly heard from the corner of the vault.
“Hist!” whispered Samson; “hear that, sir?”
“Yes; they are asleep.”
“No, sir; that behind us?”
“No.”
“Listen.”
Fred listened intently, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword, for, sure enough, there was the sound of steps coming slowly and cautiously, and as if he who made them listened, along the passage from the direction of the lake.
“Some one tracking us,” said Fred, with his lips to his follower’s ear. “Stand aside. Don’t strike. Let him enter, and then we must seize and gag him when I say ‘Now!’”
A pressure of Samson’s ear against his lips told of his acquiescence, and they stood, one on each side of the arched opening, waiting as the steps came nearer, apparently more and more cautiously, till the stairway was reached, against which whoever it was stumbled slightly, and then ascended with many pauses, and stepped right inside the vault, breathing heavily, and seeming to listen.
“What shall I do?” thought Fred. “Seize him, or what?”