Long he lay thus, and as he lay he strained his eyes to catch the first faint light of the dawn. Would it never arrive? All his fear now was lest this new strength should flee as suddenly as it had been given. But no!--the ineffable spirit that had entered into him would continue through all eternity to bear his soul. At last and quite suddenly a more instant sound began to mingle with the distant noise of the hammers. A key was grating in the lock of the door. Yes, his hour was here at last and he had not known it. With a feeling akin to relief he sat up on his pallet. He heard the door creak gently. It then came open with so little sound as to thrill him with surprise. A faint thread of light gleamed fitfully. But whoever was the visitant, he was accompanied by a silence so profound as to fill Gervase Heriot with wonder. It was not thus that his jailers had been wont to visit him. “Mr. Heriot.” The name was breathed rather than spoken. There was a curious familiarity in the voice as it stole through the darkness. His heart seemed to stop beating. He tried to answer, but could not. “Mr. Heriot.” Beyond the faint rays of a half-shuttered lantern was the outline of a dark form. “Mr. Heriot.” His name was being breathed in his ears. A hand had touched him. “Oh, it is you!” were the first words his tongue could find. “Do not speak,” whispered Anne Feversham. “Do not make a sound. But if you would live follow close without a question.” He rose from his pallet unsteadily. He was utterly bewildered and very weak from many vigils. But already the lantern had begun to move away from him, and it was a talisman that had the power to draw him after it. Almost before he was aware of what he did he realized that he was beyond the door of his cell. “Please wait while I lock the door again,” whispered his deliverer, “so that they may not know too soon.” Her deliberation, her calmness filled him with wonder. Step by step they groped their way along a very narrow corridor that smelled close and evil. The damp glistened from the walls in the light of the lantern. With infinite caution they made their way to the end of the long passage. And as they neared its end there arose the sound of a man snoring heavily. A jailer was fast asleep on a low stool that had been placed just within the outer door of the prison. He was a gross-looking fellow, and his large legs were stretched out to the full, barring completely the narrow way. They used great caution in striding over these legs lest they should wake their owner. When they had safely cleared this obstacle Anne gave Gervase the lantern, and also a poniard from a belt which she wore round her waist. “I am going to replace the keys in his girdle,” she whispered resolutely. “I do not think he will wake; a powder has been shaken into his posset. But should you see him rousing himself, plunge the dagger into his heart. I have not the courage to do it myself.”