"Are you wounded?" he gasped when she had rejoined him, noticing that her face was bloodless, white as that of a corpse--that the great pendulous lips--in years gone by, doubtless, so full and ruddy--shook and trembled.
"No," she said, "unharmed. Yet doomed. Doomed! Still, there is a chance. If I go back to them, fling my body from this landing to the stone floor below, they may cease."
"Are you also mad?" he asked hoarsely; "Are you mad? You think I shall permit that?"
"'Tis the only way to stop them."
"Bah!" Andrew exclaimed. "Nothing will stop them. You forget. They know he is here. Also they cannot know of any secret escape--even though there be one."
Her hands fell in despair by her side, her eyes rolled piteously, she recognized that it was as he had said. It was the wolf they sought first and chiefly--her next.
"We are lost!" she muttered. "Lost! Lost!"
It was impossible to doubt that such was the case.
Looking over once more, down into that great well beneath them, he saw that the floor was piled the height of a man's head with saplings and trees, both green and dry, and with kindlings formed from wrenched-down tapestry, broken chairs and stools and other things, chopped up small; even the great table itself was being hacked into firewood. All hope was gone!
Likewise, he saw three men standing close together, the palms of two of them placed side by side, so as to form a bowl, while the third emptied all their powder-horns into those hands; after which they placed the heap beneath the accumulated fuel. No need to doubt that the fire would blaze fiercely! Then one strode forward--the man with the great raucous voice--and said some words of gloating, while, as he did so, he bent his knees and stooped down, and peered into the mass collected together, and nodded approbation of the heap of powder beneath. Then rose and stood back some yards and drew a great pistol from his belt.