“Hurra!” shouted Longsword, as he caught sight of him. “Well done, Master Ethan.”
“Now the other key,” said the youthful American.
The woman hesitated, casting a look at the knife upon the floor; but Ethan kicked it beyond her reach and snatched the keys. She then sullenly indicated the one that opened Longsword’s dungeon, and in a moment the Irish ex-dragoon was free also.
But scarcely had the latter executed the first intricate steps of a joyful Irish jig upon the flags of the passage, when there came the sound of a closing door from above, followed by footfalls upon the floor directly over their heads. The woman uttered a cry of delight.
“They have come!” she cried.
“Whom?” asked Ethan.
“Mr. Danvers and his men,” she answered exultantly. “This was the day which he had set for a visit to you.”
“Caught,” cried Longsword, his hands clinching and his tall raw-boned body growing tense for the struggle which he knew was sure to come.
“Ay, caught like rats!” chuckled the woman. “You thought to give me the slip, did you?” to Ethan. “But you are going to fail. I’ll have you here for many a day yet; and I’ll be even with you for the little trick you played upon me just now.”
“What’s to be done?” asked Ethan of the dragoon.