"Yes, yes."
"And one of them--lovely?" There was amusement in the stranger's tone.
"One of them is my sister," Roger retorted fiercely. And for an instant the other was silent.
Then, "With what attendance?" he asked. "Whom have they with them that you can trust?"
"The Countess's steward and one old man. And my father, but he is old also."
"Pheugh!" the stranger whistled. "An adventure indeed!" From the sound of the fagots it seemed that he was moving. "We must out of this," he said, "and to the rescue! But how? There is no other door than the one by which we entered?"
"There is one, but the key is lost, and it has not been opened for years."
"Then we must go out as we came in," the stranger answered gaily. "But how? But how? Let me think! Let me think, lad!"
The smell of damp earth mingled with rotting wood pervaded the darkness in which they stood. They could not see one another, but at a certain height from the ground a shaft of reddish light pierced the gloom and disclosed about a foot of the cobweb vault above them. This light entered through an arrow-slit which looked toward the bonfire, and apparently it suggested a plan, for presently the stranger could be heard stumbling and groping towards it.
"You cannot go out that way!" Roger said.