"Set this down for a moment," cried Edgar, dragging the door to. He then seized his axe and attacked the hinges which held it in position. A dozen heavy blows rained down with the fierce rapidity of one fighting for his life, and the door fell outwards with a crash, letting in again the fierce glare which had been momentarily shut out. As the door fell, the sound of cheers, followed by loud laughter, became audible. Evidently the thunder of the axe strokes had reached the ears of the men above, and had been received by them as evidence that the fugitives, driven frantic by the fear of an inrush of water, had thoughts of making an effort to break through the ring of fire. "Wilt yield thee now, braggart esquire?" rang out the stentorian voice of De Brin, high above the crackling of the fires. "Doubtless--an he gets the chance," answered De Maupas with a loud laugh of derision. The sally was received with a roar of laughter from the assembled men-at-arms, whose enjoyment of the anticipated proceedings seemed great. At last they were obtaining some return for the alarms and defeats inflicted upon them by the despised peasantry. "We shall see," muttered Edgar to himself as he darted out into the blazing heat about the steps, lifted the door, and bore it back into the tunnel. Then he again darted out, and with quick swings of the foot scattered the heap of burning brands at the foot of the steps until a space was cleared. The heat was great--wellnigh insupportable. "Now, Peter," he gasped, once more bounding back into the partial shelter of the passage, "aid me to carry the chest to the foot of the steps. ’Tis our last and only hope." Livid with superstition and fear, Peter obeyed. The box was quickly lifted to the foot of the steps and there set down. Then Peter darted back into the tunnel and Edgar followed, grasping the door as he passed and carrying it along with him. The peril was tremendous, for at any moment the burning brands which dropped and rolled down the steps with every puff of wind might set light to the box and explode its contents. Knowing this, Edgar strained every nerve to put as much space between himself and the fires as possible. Half the length of the passage was traversed in safety, and then, with the thought of Beatrice in his mind, he called Peter back and raised the door upright so that it nearly closed the tunnel. "Aid me to hold it thus, Peter. Set all thy weight against it. Perchance we may then keep the flame from penetrating to our charges. I know not much of this powder, but I fear the explosion will be terrible."