"They have already cut off our retreat, Beatrice," replied Edgar. "Like a fool, I have brought thee into nothing but a trap. De Brin taunted me that the farther end was guarded, and I fear 'tis true. I had hoped that ye would all have been out long ere this. What hath delayed thee, Peter? The little chance that once we had hath, I fear, gone for ever.
"We came upon some obstruction in the passage, Master Edgar," replied Peter earnestly, "and I dared not go on with the ladies in the darkness, not knowing what pitfalls might lie in wait for us. I stopped to light a torch, and my flint and steel work none too fast in this damp and dismal dungeon. But here is the door, and I see no sentinel."
"Was yon great chest the obstruction? Didst open it?"
"Nay, I would not stop. Shall I go batter it in?"
"Nay, let us press on and test the strength of the guard about this end. Perchance, after all, when the good priest heareth the sound of a conflict, he may bring down some of his men and make an attack. We might then break through. Come, hew down that door."
"How stifling is this passage, Edgar!" cried Beatrice appealingly. "The heat is becoming dreadful. Whence cometh it?"
"I cannot understand it," replied Edgar, whose face, in spite of his brave words of hope, had grown grey and pinched. "No such heat was here when last we-- But see!--what is that light that glinteth beneath the door? Give me the axe, Peter! Something is going on beyond that barrier that giveth me fears I never felt before."
Swinging the axe with feverish impatience, he smote the lock with tremendous force. The door instantly flew open, and a glare of light and a wave of hot air burst in upon them, blinding and scorching them so fiercely that, with one impulse, they fled backwards a dozen paces into the shelter or the passage.
"What is this--dreadful fate--thou hast brought us into, Edgar?" cried Beatrice in gasps, as Jeannette sank to the ground by her side in a deep swoon. "Are we, then, to be choked and scorched alive?"
"Reproach me not, Beatrice," replied Edgar in a tremulous voice, almost unmanned by the terrible plight into which he had unwittingly brought the two maidens. "I told thee the hope of escape was faint, but I never dreamed that such a fearful end might be in store for us."