On the red staircase

by Mary Imlay Taylor

“Fortunately not here to-night, but with a friend,” he replied quietly.

Looking suddenly at Homyak, I saw a gleam of demoniac triumph on his white face; it roused me to immediate action.

“We have not a moment to lose,” I said to Von Gaden; “we must get out by the secret staircase, and take this knave with us, or all will be lost.”

The servants were crowding into the room, shaking with fear, to tell us that a mob was beating in the door.

“They will not harm you, you fools!” Von Gaden said. “They want me; they think me a poisoner, a magician, a devil.” He spoke with a passionate scorn, realizing how bitter was the requital for all his skill and devotion. “You can save yourselves easily,” he added, looking at the trembling menials, “by throwing open the door and delivering me into their hands.”

Meanwhile the tumult without increased, and we could hear the door creak under the shower of heavy blows; it was only a question of a few minutes before they would be upon us. I seized Homyak by the collar and touched Von Gaden’s sleeve; he started as if suddenly roused, and awakened to the importance of haste.

“We must be off, Dr. von Gaden,” I said. “The door will not hold many minutes more.”

He told the servants to return to their quarters, where they would be safe, as soon as the mob found that he had gone. Then we went up the stairs, he leading and I following with Homyak, who came submissively enough, hoping, probably, that we should not be able to escape. There had been a momentary lull without, but I knew that the quiet boded ill. We had barely reached the top of the stairs when there was a tremendous crash, and the outer door fell, and with a roar of triumphant rage the rioters poured in. Von Gaden extinguished his light, and in the dark we rushed along the passage, and getting into the rooms formerly occupied by Zénaïde, secured the doors. We could hear the mob shrieking and crashing through the lower part of the house, and we had not a moment to spare. The doctor had procured another light, and I held it, while he unfastened the panel and listened a moment, to assure himself that the secret passage was not discovered. A blow on the room door ended his hesitation; signing to me to enter first, he secured the panel on the inner side just as we heard the other door give way. Would they discover the panel? We had no time to think, but dashed down the stairs, almost dragging Homyak, who either could not or would not keep pace with us. When we reached the cellar, we were confronted with the possibility that the house was surrounded, and the lane cut off. All was quiet behind us; evidently they had not discovered the stair, and we paused to draw breath. Then Von Gaden put out the light, and cautiously unfastening the trap-door, peeped out. The fresh air struck my face with a strangely reviving power. It was still; only distant sounds came from the house above us. Von Gaden raised the trap and called to me to come.

“All is well here,” he said quietly, a tone of relief in his voice.

Approaching with Homyak, I stood beside him and looked out. The first gray light of the morning of the twenty-fifth of May was shining upon the stone walls and the deserted lane. It was as quiet and lonely as the most peaceful spot in the world, but the coming light troubled me not a little.