"Then they brought him up, and got rid of his body when the islanders had gone?"
"You must think what you will."
"I'll find it out," said I. "If I pull the house down, I'll find it. Is it a secret door or—"
She had colored at the question. I put the latter part in a low, eager voice, for hope had come to me.
"Is it a way out?" I asked, leaning over to her.
She sat mute, but irresolute, embarrassed and fretful.
"Heavens!" I cried, impatiently, "it may mean life or death to all of us, and you boggle over your oath!"
My rude impatience met with a rebuke that it perhaps deserved. With a glance of the utmost scorn, Euphrosyne asked, coldly:
"And what are the lives of all of you to me?"
"True, I forgot," said I with a bitter politeness. "I beg your pardon. I did you all the service I could last night, and now I and my friends may as well die as live! But I'll pull this place to ruin but I'll find your secret."