There was no reply for a time, while the man strained and reached out up and down, his hand making a peculiar whispering sound as it passed over the panelled woodwork between the door and window.
“Can’t reach, sir.”
“Here, let me try.”
A faint light appeared at the window for a few moments, and then there was a chinking sound as it was darkened again, and Lady Gowan, as she stood panting there, dimly made out that a sword was thrust through, an arm followed, and she could hear the blade ring and scrape as it was used to feel for the fastenings, clicking loudly against the ironwork and the chain which hung at the side ready for hanging across the door, to pass over a spiral hook on the other side.
This went on for a few minutes, when, as with an angry exclamation the officer who had thrust his arm through paused to rest, Lady Gowan stepped forward out of the darkness, went close to the door, bent down, and caught the ring at the end of the hanging chain, and raised it to hook it across and fasten it to secure the door.
She hardly made a sound with foot or dress; but as she drew the chain tight it chinked against the hook, and the officer heard her.
“Ha!” he shouted, with his face to the broken glass. “I see you there. Open this door, or—”
Click, click went the chain into its place, and, raising the blade of his sword, the officer made a sweeping blow at the brave woman, which struck her on the shoulder as she drew back.
“Now,” he roared, “will you open?”
The answer was a faint rustling, as Lady Gowan drew back into the dark part of the hall, fortunately unhurt, for the arm which wielded the sword was the left, and thoroughly crippled by its owner’s position.