Seizing the handle, he turned it, but the lock held fast. He examined it swiftly, and to his joy saw that it opened outwards. He drew back a yard, and then sent the whole of his weight crashing against the panels. And with good fortune the door of the room, although stoutly built, was partially rotten. It burst wide open and sent him sprawling onto his face in the passage. As he lay there half-stunned his pulses throbbed again as the noise which came from the main entrance told him that Alexis and Andrieff were making good use of the gate. He dragged himself up to his knees, still clutching his revolver, and at the same moment the outer door gave up its resistance, and Alexis and Andrieff came headlong into the hall-way. He heard them give a warning shout as he struggled to his feet, steadying himself by the pillars of the banisters. Looking up the stairs, he saw the brutal face of the villain Michael on the landing, his strong, yellow teeth bared in a vicious snarl. Paul heard the sound of a shot, and at the same time felt the hands of Madame Estelle give him a push. Her intention was unselfish, almost heroic; she saved Paul's life, but lost her own. With a little gasping sigh she pitched forward and lay still, huddled on the stairs. Then Paul heard a second shot rap out from behind his back, and saw Michael stagger on the landing. The man reeled for a couple of paces and then fell heavily. Verdayne had by this time fully got back his senses and his breath; and now he heard coming from somewhere high above him scream after scream of dreadful terror. He plunged up the staircase, and stepping across the body of Michael as it lay on the landing, raced up the second flight of stairs. For a moment he paused in the hall, in order to make doubly sure whence the terrified scream came. Then he heard it again, louder and shriller than before. There was a dreadful note of fear in it. It was the scream of a woman. As he stood there trying to locate the direction of the cry, a servant bearing a lantern in his hand ran toward him. The man was unarmed, apparently. "What is that?" Paul demanded of him. But the man merely shrugged his shoulders. Then there came the scream again, louder and more terror-stricken than before. Paul did not hesitate. Before the servant had time to utter any protest he had snatched the lantern from his hand and was racing up the third flight to the topmost landing. Again came the scream, and Paul suddenly found his way barred by a door across the corridor. Now there was no longer any doubt as to where the cries came from. Paul dashed at the door, only to find it locked. In a second he had his shoulder against the panel, and the door went in with a crash, disclosing a small anteroom, formed by the end of the hall-way. And then Paul saw before him another door, before which stood the fat Frenchman, Virot, with a shining knife in his hand. Paul covered him with his revolver. "Drop that knife," he ordered.