Again the guard was changed. The man lit a small candle-lamp, and sat against the wall, a revolver beside him. Within and without the sounds were hushed; their enemies slept, but no sleep came to cool their fevered brows. Their guard began to doze; breathing hard, waking with a start, then dozing again. By and by his breathing became regular; he too was asleep. How many hours passed it was impossible to tell. Wakeful, tortured with pain, the prisoners longed for morning.
Suddenly they heard a slight creaking sound. The guard awaked, sat erect, and looked about him. The prisoners were lying where they had been placed; all was well; and after a minute or two his loud breathing proclaimed that sleep had again overcome him. There was a second creak, a rustle, and a man slid into the room through the window. He stole across the room towards the sleeping guard; there was a gurgle; then silence. The prisoners raised themselves slightly from the floor, and saw the intruder approaching them. Without a word he stooped and with swift, silent movements cut their bonds. Then for a few moments he rubbed their numbed wrists and ankles, and signed to them to follow him. They saw now that the bars had been removed from the window. He motioned to Maurice to climb up. When he did so, he saw a ladder resting on the wall just below the sill, its lower end standing on a wagon beneath. He looked anxiously below. Nobody was in sight, but from round the corner of the house came the glow of a fire. He descended, slowly, painfully; George followed him; last of all their rescuer issued forth and climbed down.
From the wagon they reached the ground. In the dim glow the Englishmen saw that their deliverer was Giorgio.
“Where is the car?” whispered Maurice.
“At the front of the house,” he replied. “Come with me.”
They followed him towards the trees at the back of the house. Here they were met by Giulika, Marko, and the other men of his family, together with half a dozen strangers.
“Come with us, friends,” said the old man.
“We cannot leave the car,” whispered Maurice.
“Is it worth a life?” was the reply.
“Yes, we must have it.”