"I don't know. The roof and chimneys are above us. We are in the top story of the house."
"There are only two stories above the cellar, as I remember."
"Two, yes."
Still holding himself and her flat against the wall, he turned his head cautiously from side to side, searching the empty room. There was absolutely nothing there except bare floor and walls, and, in the fireplace, a huge iron grate weighted with cannel coal.
Outside, from the two corridors the firing had ceased; but he could distinguish the low vibration of heavy voices, carefully subdued, catch the sound of stealthy movements on the carpeted floor close to both doors. Lifting his pistol he fired through one door, wheeled, and fired through the other. When the deafening racket in the room had ceased, he bent toward her and whispered:
"Philippa, will you obey me?"
"Yes, mon ami."
"Flatten yourself closer against the wall and don't stir."
The girl spread out both arms, palms against the wall, and shrank closer against it with her slim body.
Warner dropped cautiously to the floor, crept across it, dragging himself by his hands, grasped the sill of the window, drew his head up with infinite precaution, and looked out and finally down.