And at the words, the large black curtains at the farther end of the
room were suddenly withdrawn, and discovered the figure of Ebba
Thorneycroft standing at the foot of the marble staircase. Her features
were as pale as death; her limbs rigid and motionless; but her eyes
blazed with preternatural light. On beholding her, Mr. Thorneycroft
uttered a loud cry, and, springing to his feet, would have rushed
towards her, but he was held back by the two masked attendants, who
seized each arm, and detained him by main force. "Ebba!" he cried--"Ebba!" But she appeared wholly insensible to his cries, and remained in the
same attitude, with her eyes turned away from him. "What ails her?" cried the agonised father. "Ebba! Ebba!" "Call louder," said Rougemont, with a jeering laugh. "Do you not know me? do you not hear me?" shrieked Mr. Thorneycroft. Still the figure remained immovable. "I told you you should see her," replied Rougemont, in a taunting tone;
"but she is beyond your reach." "Not so, not so!" cried Thorneycroft. "Come to me, Ebba!--come to your
father. O Heaven! she hears me not! she heeds me not! Her senses are
gone." "She is fast bound by a spell," said Rougemont. "Take a last look of
her. You will see her no more." And, stretching out his hand, the curtains slowly descended, and
shrouded the figure from view. Thorneycroft groaned aloud. "Are you not content?" cried Rougemont. "Will you depart in peace, and
swear never to come here more? If so, I will liberate you and your
companions." "So far from complying with your request, I swear never to rest till I
have rescued my child from you, accursed being!" cried Thorneycroft
energetically. "You have sealed your doom, then," replied Rougemont. "But before you
are yourself immured, you shall see how Auriol Darcy is circumstanced. Bring him along." And, followed by the attendants, who dragged Mr. Thorneycroft after him,
he plunged into an opening on the right. A few steps brought him to the
entrance of the cell. Touching the heavy iron door, it instantly swung
open, and disclosed Auriol chained to a stone at the farther corner of
the narrow chamber. Not a word was spoken for some minutes, but the captives regarded each
other piteously. "Oh, Mr. Thorneycroft," cried Auriol, at length, "I beseech you forgive
me. I have destroyed your daughter." "You!" exclaimed the iron-merchant in astonishment. "It is true," said Rougemont. "I would have saved her if it had been possible!" cried Auriol. "I
warned her that to love me would be fatal to her. I told her I was
linked to an inexorable destiny, which would involve her in its
meshes--but in vain." "Oh!" ejaculated Thorneycroft. "You see you ought to blame him, not me," said Rougemont, with a
derisive laugh. "I would have given my life, my soul, to preserve her, had it been
possible!" cried Auriol. "Horrors crowd so thick upon me that my brain reels," cried
Thorneycroft. "Merciless wretch!" he added, to Rougemont,
"fiend--whatever you are, complete your work of ruin by my destruction. I have nothing left to tie me to life." "I would have the miserable live," said Rougemont, with a diabolical
laugh. "It is only the happy I seek to destroy. But you have to thank
your own obstinacy for your present distress. Bid a lasting farewell to
Auriol. You will see him no more." "Hold!" exclaimed Auriol. "A word before we part." "Ay, hold!" echoed a loud and imperious voice from the depths of the
passage. "Ha!--who speaks?" demanded Rougemont, a shade passing over his
countenance. "I, Gerard Paston!" exclaimed Reeks, stepping forward. The crape was gone from his brow, and in its place was seen the handsome
and resolute features of a man of middle life. He held a pistol in
either hand. "Is it you, Gerard Paston?" cried Auriol, regarding him; "the brother of
Clara, my second victim!" "It is," replied the other. "Your deliverance is at hand, Auriol." "And you have dared to penetrate here, Gerard?" cried Rougemont,
stamping the ground with rage. "Recollect, you are bound to me by the
same ties as Auriol, and you shall share his fate." "I am not to be intimidated by threats," replied Paston, with a scornful
laugh. "You have employed your arts too long. Deliver up Auriol and this
gentleman at once, or----" And he levelled the pistols at him. "Fire!" cried Rougemont, drawing himself up to his towering height. "No
earthly bullets can injure me." "Ve'll try that!" cried Ginger, coming up at the moment behind Paston. And he discharged a pistol, with a deliberate aim, at the breast of
Rougemont. The latter remained erect, and apparently uninjured. "You see how ineffectual your weapons are," said Rougemont, with a
derisive laugh. "It must be the devil!" cried Ginger, running off. "I will try mine," said Paston. But before he could draw the triggers, the pistols were wrested from his
grasp by the two attendants, who had quitted Thorneycroft, and stolen
upon him unperceived, and who next pinioned his arms. CHAPTER IV

THE PIT


So bewildered was the poor iron-merchant by the strange and terrible
events that had befallen him, that, though released by the two masked
attendants, who left him, as before related, to seize Gerard Paston, he
felt utterly incapable of exertion, and would probably have made no
effort to regain his freedom, if his coat had not been vigorously
plucked behind, while a low voice urged him to fly. Glancing in the
direction of the friendly speaker, he could just discern a diminutive
object standing within the entrance of a side-passage, and reared up
against the wall so as to be out of sight of Rougemont and his
attendants. It was the monkey--or rather Old Parr--who, continuing to
tug violently at his coat, at last succeeded in drawing him backwards
into the passage, and then grasping his hand tightly, hurried him along
it. The passage was wholly unlighted, but Mr. Thorneycroft could
perceive that it was exceedingly circuitous, and winded round like a
maze. "Where are you taking me?" he inquired, attempting to stop. "Ask no questions," rejoined the dwarf, pulling him along. "Do you want
to be captured, and shut up in a cell for the rest of your life?" "Certainly not," replied Thorneycroft, accelerating his movements; "I
hope there's no chance of it." "There's every chance of it," rejoined Old Parr. "If you're taken,
you'll share Auriol's fate." "O Lord! I hope not," groaned the iron-merchant. "I declare, you
frighten me so much that you take away all power of movement. I shall
drop in a minute." "Come along, I say," screamed the dwarf. "I hear them close behind us." And as he spoke, shouts, and the noise of rapidly-approaching footsteps,
resounded along the passage. "I can't stir another step," gasped the iron-merchant. "I'm completely
done. Better yield at once." "What, without a struggle?" cried the dwarf tauntingly. "Think of your
daughter, and let the thought of her nerve your heart. She is lost for
ever, if you don't get out of this accursed place."