"Ha! ha! ha!" screamed the dwarf. "You know what you're about now." "Not exactly," said Ginger. "I vish I wos fairly out o' this cursed place!" "You shouldn't have ventured into the lion's den," said Old Parr, in a taunting tone. "But come with me, and perhaps I may be able to do something towards your liberation." So saying, he drew aside the tapestry, and opened a panel behind it, through which he passed, and beckoned Ginger to follow him. Taking a pistol from his pocket, the latter complied. CHAPTER III GERARD PASTON Before the chair, in which Mr. Thorneycroft was fixed, reached the ground, terror had taken away his senses. A bottle of salts, placed to his nose, revived him after a time; but he had nearly relapsed into insensibility on seeing two strange figures, in hideous masks and sable cloaks, standing on either side of him, while at a little distance was a third, who carried a strangely-fashioned lantern. He looked round for his companions in misfortune, but, though the chairs were there, they were unoccupied. The masked attendants paid no attention to the iron-merchant's cries and entreaties; but as soon as they thought him able to move, they touched a spring, which freed his arms and legs from their bondage, and raising him, dragged him out of the vault, and along a narrow passage, till they came to a large sepulchral-looking chamber, cased with black marble, in the midst of which, on a velvet fauteuil of the same hue as the walls, sat Cyprian Rougemont. It was, in fact, the chamber where Ebba had been subject to her terrible trial. Bewildered with terror, the poor iron-merchant threw himself at the feet of Rougemont, who, eyeing him with a look of malignant triumph, cried-- "You have come to seek your daughter. Behold her!" And at the words, the large black curtains at the farther end of the room were suddenly withdrawn, and discovered the figure of Ebba Thorneycroft standing at the foot of the marble staircase.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."