Miss Desmond accompanied us into the cellars, and as far as she showed any feeling at all, apparently wished to facilitate my task. The cellars were so extensive, and contained so many dark recesses, that the search there lasted a full half-hour. We were about to return to the upper floors, when I noticed a small door painted the color of the stone wall, and fitting into it so neatly that we might well have passed over it at a first look. Blathwayt himself had not seen it, but my eyes lingered there, and when I looked up Miss Desmond was gazing at me. My heart began to beat more rapidly. Alloway was behind that little gray door. I divined it at once. But what were Miss Desmond's feelings? What would she wish me to do? Was her loyalty to her father overcoming her loyalty to the king? And then another question intervened. I alone had passed it by; would she call attention to it? I hesitated a little, and then walked unnoticing past the door, but I could not refrain from giving her a look of understanding, to tell her that I had seen it but would save her father. Her eye glittered, whether with scorn I could not say. "You are overlooking the alcove, Lieutenant Melville," she said. I paused, astounded, and I looked reproachfully at her, but her expression did not change. Then I walked a little farther, as if I had not heard, and she repeated,-- "You are overlooking the alcove, Lieutenant Melville." The others were at the far end of the cellar and could not hear her. "Miss Desmond," I said, "I have more regard than you for your father's safety." Her eyes flashed. "Lieutenant Melville," she said, "I demand that you search the alcove." I hesitated, murmuring that I did not think it worth while; no one could lie concealed in such a small, close place. "I shall report you to the commander-in-chief himself unless you search it," she said, looking at me steadily. There could be no mistake; her manner and her tone alike indicated decision, and that I must obey. Yet I did not withhold these words,-- "I know that you are a Tory, Miss Desmond, but I did not think that you would go to such extremes." She made no reply, and surrendering all hope for Marcel and myself, I turned the bolt and threw open the little door of the alcove. It was empty! I stood still, too much surprised to speak; relief, at that moment, not having any part in my emotions, although it came later. "You know now, Lieutenant Melville, that your belief is as false as it was unjust," said Miss Desmond, proudly. "You have wronged my father." "It is true," I confessed; and I confessed too, though not aloud, that perhaps I had wronged some one else yet more. Then I called to Blathwayt and censured him for overlooking the alcove. "The fugitive might have lain there safely hidden from all of us," I said, "but I saw the place, and perhaps we may find others like it."