With these words, he sprang nimbly forward, and seized the uplifted arm of the gaoler with both his hands. At the same moment, Hildebrand, hearing his exclamation, looked up, and perceived his danger. The incident seemed to nerve him with new determination, and, throwing all his strength into his grasp, he seized the gaoler by the shoulders, and threw him bodily to the ground. As he fell, his head came in contact with the wall of the dungeon, and the concussion, with the fall, rendered him senseless. “’Tis bravely done,” said the young cavalier. “We will now go forth. But, hist!” “They are footsteps!” whispered Hildebrand. CHAPTER X. Hildebrand Clifford, on distinguishing the sound that had alarmed him to be the tread of an approaching foot, gently laid his hand on the arm of the young Spaniard, who was a pace or two nearer the door, and drew him back. The sound came nearer, and Hildebrand felt his friend’s arm, which he still held, tremble violently. His agitation, though it might be owing to his extreme youth, and the novelty and strong excitement of the occasion, more than downright cowardice, greatly degraded him in the estimation of Hildebrand, and he began to regard him with some degree of contempt. But recollecting that it was to serve him the young cavalier had placed himself in danger, the feeling had scarcely found harbourage in his bosom, on the spur of the discovery, when he repelled it; and the irresolution of the Spaniard only rendered him more prompt and decided. The former seemed to be sensible that it was on Hildebrand their safety depended. On coming behind the door, he presented him with his pistols; and, without interchanging a word, or manifesting the least hesitation, yielded himself passively to his control. Meantime, the unfriendly footstep, after approaching close to the door, suddenly paused, and the door was pushed open. As the door opened, it screened Hildebrand and his ally, who, with this view, had placed themselves on the inner side of it; and, consequently, the person entering did not observe them. Nor could they, at the first start, survey him, being equally blinded by the door, though, from his ignorance of what had passed, he alone was open to surprise. To take him by surprise was Hildebrand’s object. Directly he heard him clear the range of the door, and before he could glance round the dungeon, he threw the door back, and, while he thus cut off his retreat, prepared to reduce him to subjection. The individual thus surprised was one of the gaoler’s assistants. He was a short man, and, though thick-set, of a frame that, in a struggle for mastery, would render him but a poor match for the muscular energies of Hildebrand. He was, moreover, except for a long knife which was thrust through his girdle, unarmed, and further incapacitated for offensive measures by his surprise.