It was a bare place, the only furniture in it being two chairs and two rough wooden bedsteads without heads to them, mere trestles indeed, that stood about three feet apart against a boarded partition which appeared to divide this room from some other attic beyond. Also, there was a hole in the wall immediately beneath the eaves of the house that served the purpose of a window, over which a sack was nailed. “We are poor folk,” said the landlord as they glanced round this comfortless garret, “but many great people have slept well here, as doubtless you will also,” and he turned to descend the ladder. “It will serve,” answered Castell; “but, friend, tell your men to leave the stable open, as we start at dawn, and be so good as to give me that lamp.” “I cannot spare the lamp,” he grunted sulkily, with his foot already on the first step. Peter strode to him and grasped his arm with one hand, while with the other he seized the lamp. The man cursed, and began to fumble at his belt, as though for a knife, whereon Peter, putting out his strength, twisted his arm so fiercely that in his pain he loosed the lamp, which remained in Peter’s hand. The inn-keeper made a grab at it, missed his footing and rolled down the ladder, falling heavily on the floor below. Watching from above, to their relief they saw him pick himself up, and heard him begin to revile them, shaking his fist and vowing vengeance. Then Peter shut down the trap-door. It was ill fitted, so that the edge of it stood up above the flooring, also the bolt that fastened it had been removed, although the staples in which it used to work remained. Peter looked round for some stick or piece of wood to pass through these staples, but could find nothing. Then he bethought him of a short length of cord that he had in his pocket, which served to tie one of the saddle-bags in its place on his mule. This he fastened from one staple to the other, so that the trap-door could not be lifted more than an inch or two. Reflecting that this might be done, and the cord cut with a knife passed through the opening, he took one of the chairs and stood it so that two of its legs rested on the edge of the trap-door and the other two upon the boarding of the floor. Then he said to Castell: “We are snared birds; but they must get into the cage before they wring our necks. That wine was poisoned, and, if they can, they will murder us for our money—or because they have been told to do so by the guide. We had best keep awake to-night.” “I think so,” answered Castell anxiously. “Listen, they are talking down below.”