So startled was Geoffrey that he felt the moisture spurt from every pore like a rash. But, fully conscious of his danger, he suppressed the cry that rose to his lips, nor did he move as he felt a thick cloak thrown over his head. He slipped his revolver into his hand and fumbled it against the cold cheek of his antagonist.

But the antagonist took it coolly. A pair of lips were close to Geoffrey's ear and the smallest, faintest voice spelt out the letters, T-c-h-i-g-o-r-s-k-y. Geoffrey put the weapon back in his pocket. At the same time he felt about till his fingers touched the hand of his companion. No doubt about it. The other was Tchigorsky beyond question. Perhaps he had been testing Geoffrey's courage and resolution; perhaps the danger had deepened unexpectedly.

Presently the light of the lantern popped up again, in response to some subtle signal, and once more the conspirators moved on to the vault above. Tchigorsky lifted his head.

"Where are they going?" Geoffrey asked.

Tchigorsky responded with one of his diabolical chuckles.

"They imagine that they are going into the castle," he said. "But they are not going to accomplish that part of the program."

"But what do they want there?"

"What should they want? You know something of those now whose business it is to wipe you out root and branch. More artistic methods having failed, they may deem it necessary to fall back on more vulgar plans. There are five people sleeping in the castle—six with your Uncle Ralph—who stand in the way. It is possible if the fiends are lucky that the castle may be devoid of life by daybreak."

Geoffrey could not repress a shudder.

"Fiends, indeed!" he said. "But why not stop it? Why not let them enter and then take them all red-handed?"

"What could we gain by that? We could not connect them with past crimes! At worst they would get a few months in gaol as suspects. When the time comes we must smash them all. And the time is coming."

Tchigorsky rose as if to go.

"I follow them," he said, "you remain here, in the darkness. And if any one attempts to pass you do not let him do so. Don't forget this thing. At all hazards you are not to let any one pass."

Geoffrey nodded as Tchigorsky passed on his way. For a long time all was quiet, and then from above there came a startled cry followed by the sound of strife and a scream of pain and terror. It was all that Geoffrey could do to restrain himself from yelling in response and rushing to the spot. Then he became conscious that somebody was coming rapidly through the cave. He reached out his hand and grabbed at and caught a sinewy, slippery brown ankle.

It only needed that touch to tell Geoffrey that he was at grips with the native. Down the fellow came on the slippery rocks, and the next instant the two were engaged in a life or death struggle.

Young, strong, vigorous as he was, his muscle knitted like iron with healthy exercise, Geoffrey knew that he had met his match. The native had a slight advantage of him in point of years; he was greased from head to foot, rendering a grip difficult, and his flying robe came asunder like cobwebs at the first strain. He fought with the abandon of a man who is reckless of life.

Over and over on the slippery rocks they rolled, each striving to get the other by the throat. By this time they were both breathing thick and fast, and Geoffrey's mind began to wander toward his revolver. But to release his grip to get that might be fatal. He could hear his antagonist gasping as he rolled off a ledge of rock, and then Geoffrey lifted his opponent's head and brought it down with a bang on the granite.

In the very instant of his triumph something whistled behind him, and a jagged piece of stone came smashing on to his temple.

He had a confused view of a native on his feet again, fast hurrying away, heard the rustle of garments and a further rustle of more garments, and then his arm was closed upon a female figure whom he pulled to the ground by his side.

He felt the woman open her lips to scream, but he clapped his hand over her mouth.

"No, you don't," he said grimly. "One of you has escaped and my friend the nigger has had a narrow escape, but I've got you, my lady. I've got you safe and I don't mean to let you go."

He felt the slight figure in his arms tremble and palpitate; he heard voices above. Once more the slim figure shivered. His hand was torn from her mouth and the woman spoke.

"They are calling you," she said; "for God's sake let me go, Geoffrey."

For an instant Geoffrey was too dazed and stunned to speak.

"Marion?" he gasped presently. "Marion?"

Marion cowered down, sobbing bitterly.

"You are surprised," she said. "No wonder. You wonder what I am doing here and I will tell you presently. But not now; I will place my secret in your hands; I will disguise nothing from you. For the present leave me."

"Leave you here! Impossible!"

"But I am safe, quite safe, Geoffrey. Oh, if you have any feeling for one of the most miserable creatures in the world, leave me. Tell them above that those abandoned wretches have gone, that no sign of them remains. Consider what I have suffered and am suffering for your family, and try to help me."

Conscious of his own weakness, Geoffrey pondered. He might be doing a serious injury to the delicate plans formed by Ralph Ravenspur, but he had given the promise and there was an end of the matter.

Marion was in some way bound up with these people, but Marion was pure as the angels and Marion would do no wrong. Why, then, should her good name be dragged in the mire?

"You are so good, so good to me," Marion murmured. "Go before they become alarmed at your silence and leave me here. Say that you saw nothing. And when the house is quiet I shall make my way back again."

Geoffrey retired upwards without further words. In the basement of the castle he found Tchigorsky and Ralph Ravenspur.

"They managed to elude you?" asked the former.

Geoffrey pointed to the ugly bruise on the side of his head.

"Yes," he said, "they both got away. But for this bit of an accident fighting in the dark I might have captured the dusky conspirator."

"Rather you had not, on the whole," Ralph said. "Something gave them the alarm as they reached the passages. Of course their idea was to murder some or all of us in our beds, and our idea was to take them in the act. But they got the alarm and vanished. One of the fellows attacked me in the shrubbery just before dark, but I fancy he will not do it again."

"I saw him," said Geoffrey. "He came to Mrs. May's for assistance. She pretended that I was mistaken, but she had to give in at last when circumstances became too strong for her. How did you manage to deal him that blow on the head, uncle?"

Ralph smiled grimly.

"I have my own means of protection," he said. "What became of the fellow?"

Geoffrey explained all that had happened during and after the dinner at Jessop's farm. His two listeners followed his statement with flattering interest. Yet all the time Geoffrey was listening intently for signs of Marion. Was she still in the vaults or had she managed to slip away to her bedroom? The thought of the delicate girl down there in the darkness and cold was by no means pleasant.

"We have managed to make a mess of it to-night," said Ralph. "How those people contrived to discover that there was danger afoot I can't understand. But one thing is certain, they will not be content to leave things as they are. They may try the same thing again or their efforts may take a new and more ingenious direction."

"Which direction we shall discover," said Tchigorsky. "Can you let me out here, or shall I go by the same means that I entered?"

To Geoffrey's relief Ralph volunteered to open the hall door for his friend.

"Come this way," he said. "All the bolts and bars have been oiled and will make no noise."

They slipped away quietly together. Geoffrey listened intently. He fancied that he could hear footsteps creeping up the stairs, and in the corridor a door softly closed. Then Ralph Ravenspur came back again.

"Tchigorsky has gone," he said. "After this it will be necessary for us to vary our plan of campaign a little. You have learned something to-night. You know now that our antagonists are two Indians and a woman who is dangerous as she is lovely and fascinating. Ah, what a woman she is!"

"Who is she?" Geoffrey asked.

"Ah, that I cannot tell you. You must be content to wait. I do not want you to know too much, and then there is no chance of your being taken off your guard. When the surprise comes it will be a dramatic one. The more you see of that woman and the more you cultivate her the more you will find to wonder at."

"But can I cultivate her after to-night?"

"Why not? She does not know the extent of your knowledge; she has not the remotest idea that you have been helping to foil her schemes. Next time she will meet you as if nothing had happened."

Geoffrey thought of Marion and was silent. That one so pure and sweet should be mixed up with a creature like that was horrible. Ralph Ravenspur rose with a yawn. He seemed to have lapsed into his wooden state. He felt his way down the big flagged hall toward the staircase.

"We can do nothing more," he said. "I am going to bed. Good-night."

The door closed and then Geoffrey was free to act. He could go down into the vault and bring Marion up. But first he would try to ascertain if she was in her room. He passed up the stairs and along the corridor. Outside Marion's door he coughed gently.

The door opened and Marion stood there clad in a fair white wrap, with her glorious hair hanging free over her shoulders. Her eyes were full of tears.

"Geoff," she whispered. "Geoff, dear Geoff."

She fell into his arms, and pressed her lips long and clingingly to his. Her hole frame was quivering with mingled love and emotion. Then she snatched herself away from his embrace and, with the single whispered word, "To-morrow," closed the door behind her.