“I do not know it, for if I had heard tell of it, I should have told you, and you could have got the carabineers or the soldiery here; but I know what an empty house like this means, when there are forty folks all gone out of it at the same time on the same errand, and I know that the woodlanders of Le Selve are no lambs.” He was silent a moment; then he said: “I will sell my life dearly, Caterina. As for you, slip out while you can, and hide in the outhouses or the underwood till morning. You cannot alter my fate. Do not stay to share it.” “I am no poltroon, sir, and my years anyhow cannot be many. Come to work.” She led the way carrying the lamp, and held the light up whilst he put up the enormous bars and turned the gigantic keys of the iron-barred doors, and shut and bolted the shutters. There was no sound without. The imbecile Matteo and the lame woman Dreina he drove, as a precaution, into a little room off the kitchen, which had no communication with the outer court, and locked them in there. The woman would not speak. He caused Caterina to light as many lamps as there were in the building, and placed them in various corridors and chambers; he looked for the guns belonging to the men, but they were gone, and those of the under-steward likewise. “Fausto must be in this matter,” he said to Caterina. “He is probably the mainspring of it, sir,” she answered. “But no one will ever prove it on him. He went away yesterday eve to go to shoot in the macchia over by Ostia; there is no close time there. You recollect he asked your leave to go and buy cattle; but he told several of the men he was going shooting. If this plan succeed, he will come back and act innocence. If it fail, he will take ship to one of the Americas. He has feathered his nest.” “He did ask leave--yes,” replied Cyrille, still incredulous. “But after all, there may be nothing of what you think; your lads and lasses may only have taken holiday.” “They have taken holiday, sir, indeed,” said Caterina grimly. She was angered against him for his incredulity. To her the conspiracy was clear as crystal. He was still very doubtful of the truth of her suspicions, but he thought it well to take such measures for protection as he could. He made the basement as safe from attack as he could with the means at his disposal, and no man’s strength to aid him, and closed all passages which led outward; there were some subterranean passages, of the existence even of which he had possessed no previous knowledge. Caterina showed him an iron door in the side of a well. The door was just above the level of the water, which glimmered far down below; steps in the stonework descended to it. “It goes out to the woods under the long avenue, and opens up under that great ilex which they call Pope Paul’s,” she said. “You might get away so if you would. The passage is low and narrow, but it has been kept clear. You know the woods well enough to find your way at daybreak to the guardhouse.”