“Yes. He is here somewhere. He was to meet me at a point outside the castle, and he did not appear. It is possible that he has fallen into the hands of the smugglers, but it is also possible that he is still out there waiting, for I left a message for him if he should return. But if, on the other hand, he has been captured, I must first put you in a place of safety, and then——”
“Will monsieur permit me?” asked Antoine at this juncture.
“What, Antoine?”
“If monsieur’s friend has been taken prisoner, I know where he would be confined. Come! We will look there for him. It is on our way out.”
“Antoine, you’re a treasure! Lead on. Bessie, have you got that gun yet?”
“Yes; I have never parted with it for a moment, save once.”
“Good! Go on, Antoine.”
They passed into the corridor. It was silent and deserted, but not dark, for here and there a light gleamed dimly through the massive hall.
Along this and down another flight of steps they passed, and at last stopped before a heavy door, barred with iron on the outside; and this bar Antoine lost no time in removing.
“It is their prison,” he said; and threw the door open, but only to be thrown from his feet to the floor by the precipitate attack of Maxwell Kane, who had been waiting for just such an opportunity.