“If you call out or move I’ll shoot you dead,” was his warning to the gaoler, and the last view that Von Tressen and Galabin had of the scene was the sturdy ruffian standing paralyzed before the gleaming weapon with an ugly grin of discomfiture on his face.
For no time was to be lost, now that the first step in the rescue was safely accomplished, in being ready to help the Prince through its other and more perilous stages. So Von Tressen and Galabin, seeing all had gone well so far, made their way with all haste down from the roof and round to the door leading from the chapel, which in the plan they had worked out seemed the shortest and least hazardous way from the prison-room to open air and liberty.
CHAPTER XXIX
ZARKA’S PRAYER AND ITS ANSWER
To return to the chapel. When Zarka went down from Prince Roel’s blow the way of escape seemed cleared, but no time was to be lost. Leaving the Count to recover as best he might under the care of his servant, the party, keeping together for safety, made their way along a passage which they judged would lead them in the direction of the prison-room, where D’Alquen had been left. But to find this proved no easy business, and as it turned out, they might have sought the room for hours without finding it, had not a lucky circumstance shown it to them.
Galabin had, as well as he was able from the information he possessed, made a plan of the bearings of the room in relation to its position from the vestibule which led to the chapel and, on the other side, to the principal entrance of the castle. He had carefully calculated the distance as well as the direction, and although in that intricately constructed building it was far from easy to make practical use of the plan, he judged after they had gone a considerable distance, and had found themselves in a dark stone corridor, that they were not very far from the room they sought. Galabin, anticipating its need, had provided himself with a small lantern, and by the light of this they searched for the prison chamber. There were three doors on the left-hand side of the passage; all of these were unfastened, and each led into an empty room. On the right-hand side there were no doors, the stone wall was unbroken. At the end was a small door admitting to a winding stairway, evidently leading up into the tower. Prince Roel seemed to recognize the neighbourhood of his prison, but his ideas on the subject were vague, and he was quite unable to point out where the entrance could be found. His escape from the room had been made in such excitement that he had noted nothing except the passage that lay in front of him.
Every moment, they felt, was precious, as the delay would give Zarka’s people time to gather and attack them, which certainly, but for their chief’s state of collapse, would have happened before this. In their extremity Galabin ventured to call, “D’Alquen! D’Alquen!” To their great relief there was an answering cry, coming as it seemed from the thickness of the wall, and next moment the apparently solid stonework moved outwards, and a door, the grooves of which were secured from observation by depressed lines in the masonry, opened, and D’Alquen backed out, revolver in hand.
“Now, let us get out of this as quickly as we can,” Galabin exclaimed.
But how? A hurried consultation was held, and a plan of escape which seemed to offer least risk was quickly decided upon. They all passed into the room, shutting and locking the door behind them. The gaoler, again held up under the influence of D’Alquen’s pistol, was then compelled at the muzzle of the same weapon to work back the iron shutter which concealed the window. This done, he was pinioned and left securely helpless. Then by the aid of the long strap which had proved so useful, all the five let themselves down, one by one, from the window. There was no sound or sign of a pursuing party as they crossed the moat to the wood beyond, down to the valley, and so along its path towards Gorla’s Farm. It was imperative that they should push on to the town which lay a few miles beyond, in order to insure Prince Roel’s safety, and send word to Gersdorff. Von Tressen took Philippa by the arm and helped her along the rough ground. For a while the excitement and reaction were too great to allow her to speak, although there was in her heart an unspeakable joy at the lifting of the shadow of death which had lain across it. At length she said in a low voice:
“You understand, now?”
“Hardly,” Von Tressen answered. “But at least this, that I have been led into a hideous mistake in the suspicions which have been forced upon me.”