"Curse these Lorraine wolves," he muttered to himself, as he rushed to a third room, "they protected themselves well. Did indeed mean that none should get into their house, or, being in, should ever get out again."
The third room was as useless as the first for his purpose, and--there was but one more left! If that was the same, God only knew how the escape could ever be made, unless it was back across the chasm, the way he had come. Could that be done, he mused, as now he approached the fourth room. Was that possible? If one, or a dozen, of the men outside should proceed to the brink of the chasm, fasten a rope to the tree as he and Laurent had done--if----
"Ha! the chance is here," he exclaimed, breaking off in his calculations. "Here. Here. It must be."
He had entered the fourth room--in this case he had to burst the door open by hurling himself against its stout oak panels, since it was locked--and, in doing so, found the chance of which he spoke.
The window was of the same form as the others, but it had been subjected to some great violence and was much damaged by the shock; the slim columns were broken quite out of base and socket, the shattered fragments of the stone lay on the floor and, with them, lay, too, the leaden framework of the diamond panes, and most of the panes themselves. The violence had come from outside--later on, Andrew learnt that, during the night attack, a petard carried by the besieging Lorrainers--one of a number brought by them to assist in destroying the house--had been hurled against that window and had blown it in. Yet, when this had been accomplished, their object had failed. The window was too high from the ground to allow of their obtaining entry, and the petard, after bursting it open, had fallen back, doing no further damage.
Still, it had performed a service never dreamt of by the Lorrainers--it had provided a way for the escape of those three prisoners in the burning house.
The cavalry men, who had by now been joined by those belonging to the English and Scotch auxiliaries, were all upon that side of the mansion--since 'twas there, above, that they had first perceived the form of Andrew outlined against the threatening morning clouds--and as his head appeared through the shattered window they hailed him with a shout. Also from those of his own countrymen, as well as from the Scotch, came noisy greetings. Some had stood side by side with him in other campaigns than these; all had seen his prowess at Entzheim and honoured him for it.
"Yet," called up the young Marquis De La Fare, he being the officer in command, "the height is great. How to descend; how bring the ladies you speak of?" While, as he himself spoke, he bade some of the men search the outhouses they observed near by. Perchance some ladder might be there, by which the window could be reached.
"It may happen," said Andrew, "that I can drop the women to you--yet the distance is almost too great--if they should be missed by your soldiers it would be instant death."
"It is impossible," the other replied. "Yet, have patience--my men seek even now for some means to reach you--if a ladder can be found all will be well. Meanwhile, I counsel you, go bring the ladies to the window. By then the way may have been found."