"The treasure is not in our possession," sang out Barraclough. "But we believe it to be in the possession of Holgate—one of yourselves."
"Oh, come, that won't do—that game won't play," said a familiar wheezy voice from behind us, and we all fell back in alarm and amazement.
The boards had fallen loose from one of the windows, and Holgate's head protruded into the corridor. In a flash the Prince's fingers went to his revolver, and a report echoed from the walls, the louder for that confined space. Holgate had disappeared. Barraclough ran to the window and peered out. He looked round.
"That opens it," he said deliberately, and stood with a look of perplexity and doubt on his face.
"Since you have chosen war and begun the offensive we have no option," shouted Holgate through the boarding.
"All right, drive ahead," growled Lane, and sucked his teeth.
Crash came an iron bar on the door. Barraclough inserted his revolver through the open window and fired. "One," said he.
"Two, by thunder!" said Lane, discharging through one of the holes pierced in the door.
"They'll play us the same trick as before," said I, and dashed across to the entrance from the music-room.
Noises arose from below. I tested the locks and bars, and then running hastily into one of the cabins brought forth a table and used it to strengthen the barricade. Prince Frederic, observing this, nodded and gave instructions to Lane, who went on a similar errand on behalf of the other door.