But though it seemed to take an eternity to shut down, there was not the slightest sound, or other indication that any one had been aroused.
“What shall we do?” he asked the Princess; “that din must have been heard; shall we wait and risk another try, or escape now by the postern before we could be cut off?”
“We will risk another try,” said she, at once. “Give the word whenever you wish.”
For himself he was well content; his fighting blood was up, and here might be his opportunity to have it out with Lotzen, so he settled back to wait, harkening for the sound of any one coming by the passage; the location of the broken glass would tell the Duke instantly the cause, and his first act, naturally, would be to send a party around to intercept them; though, being a stranger in his own castle, he might not know of the secret way, in which case the accident would have no materially adverse result save, possibly, to startle those within hearing from a sound sleep.
And while they delayed, Moore gossiped in whispers with the Regent, hoping to divert her, if only a very little, from the heavy strain she must be under—the blackness was enough, in itself, for a woman to endure, without the danger. And he marvelled at her calmness and ease, and the light laugh which came at times.
“It’s good of you, Colonel,” said she finally, “but I think I’m past fearing now. I was horribly afraid at first, and the rats almost made me faint with terror, but now I’m sort of dazed, dreaming, automatic, whatever it is—when the reaction comes, there likely will be hysterics—but that shan’t be until all this is ended—it’s this inaction that is the most trying.”
Moore touched Jessac.
“How long have we been waiting?” he asked.
“Well on to half an hour, sir.”
“Then swing the stone.”