"Onward with Sir John, Peter!" cried Edgar, as he once more turned back, sword in hand, to hold the rear. As he did so a sudden thought struck him. Darting forward, he snatched up the blazing torch, sprang back through the doorway, and, dropping his sword, heaved at the door with all his strength. With a dull thud it swung to, shutting out all sight of their pursuers and deadening to a murmur the shout of fury that went up as Sir Eustace and his men saw further pursuit for the time hopelessly blocked. "Back to the drawbridge!" cried Sir Eustace, almost beside himself with rage. "Pounce upon them as they emerge at the other end." Then, realizing that the secret of the underground passage would be at an end did the garrison sally out indiscriminately, he gulped down his anger, and commanded: "Nay, watch yon door lest the rascals return. Sir Gervaise, and you, Duprez, and Manton, follow me across the drawbridge!" * * * * * By the light of the captured torch, Edgar and Peter made rapid progress along the underground passage. The air was so foul and noisome that even the torch burned dim, but their lives were in such jeopardy that they had no thought but to press on. The passage was cut straight through the earth, and was lined with stone. It seemed of great age. Big clumps of fungi studded the walls, and water stood in pools at their feet. Though in reality but a few minutes, it seemed an age before they reached another door, which they guessed marked the farther end of the tunnel. Once through this they doubted not that they would be safely out of the castle. Edgar rapidly tried the keys until he found the one to fit. Again the lock turned, though slowly and unwillingly, as though it had been years since any had passed that way, and through the door they staggered, gasping. The air was comparatively fresh on the other side, and above their heads, in a tiny patch, they could see the stars. Holding up the torch, Edgar saw a row of ladder-like steps leading straight upwards. By the side of the steps a heavy iron chain hung down. Sending Peter up in advance, Edgar took Sir John, laid him over his shoulder, and grasping the chain with both hands, clambered painfully up. As he reached the top of what seemed like a wooden chimney, he heard a dull rattle and roar in the distance. "’Tis the drawbridge, Peter," he cried. "Where are we now?" "At the top of the trunk of a hollow tree, Master Edgar. We are in the woods." "Hold Sir John while I clamber down. Then lower him down to me, and, if I cannot reach him, let him drop. There is no time to think of a better plan."