“Here, is this the room above the dungeon?” said Randolph. He laid his hand on the knob, the inside mate of which Adam was holding.
“No, sir, this is the room, here upon the other side,” said Weaver. “It’s a few steps further along.”
The private executioners, with their chief, were moving away, when one of the beef-eaters stepped upon something on the floor of the armory, making a sound that seemed terrific.
“What was that?” demanded Randolph, quickly.
“We have rats in the property chamber,” said Weaver, honestly.
“It sounded too big for rats,” said the voice of Psalms Higgler, whom Adam readily identified.
“We may look there if you like,” said the jailer.
“Never mind the rats at present,” dictated Randolph. “Show us the room above the cellar.”
The other door could then be heard to open and to close behind the visitors. Adam snatched up swords for three on the instant.
“Here, take it—and not a word,” he breathed, thrusting a weapon upon each of his trembling companions. “If they come for us—fight!”