"There is an entrance to this room leading from the chamber in which the signorina first slept," remarked Paul quietly.
This statement was pure conjecture on his part, but its truth was instantly made evident by Lambro's manner. He turned so savagely upon Jacintha that Paul thought he was going to strike her.
"So you couldn't keep your tongue quiet?"
"You err," said Paul, hastening to vindicate the woman. "Jacintha has told me nothing. It is simply a guess of mine, and—"
He broke off abruptly and placed his ear to the door.
"By heaven, there is some one in this room. I can detect a sound within. Signorina, are you here?" he cried, rapping upon the panels.
The dusk of the landing was suddenly illumined by a light that came and went in a moment. Merely a flash of summer lightning.
It was accompanied by something startling within. A faint cry of "Oh!"—plainly the voice of Barbara; a dull thud as of the fall of a human body, and then a significant stillness.
With a soldier's promptitude Paul flung himself against the door, bruising his shoulders by the violence of the impact.
"You'll never force that door," said Lambro. "It's too strong. We must go downstairs. The signorina must have got in here through the secret panel in the bedroom."