But she did not fire again. Instead, there was a long, unbroken silence, during which, it seemed to me, I could feel my hair whitening on my head. I also became conscious of a stinging numbness in my right hand. Minute after minute passed, and still no sound came from the outer cellar. I felt that if the silence endured a moment longer, I should shriek aloud. "Lie still," whispered Godfrey, at last, "and I'll try to find the torch. Did she hit you?" "My hand feels numb." "Let me see," and I felt his fingers touching it softly here and there. "It's just a scratch, I think. But wait till I find the torch." I heard him groping about for it; then for a time all was still again. Suddenly, from an angle of the wall, a shaft of light shot about the cellar. It was empty. "All right, Lester," said Godfrey's voice. "Let's have a look at the hand." I got up unsteadily and went to him. A moment's examination showed that my wound was indeed only a scratch. The bullet had grazed the back of the hand and struck the wrist-bone a glancing blow. "We'll have it dressed as soon as we can," said Godfrey. "And now the next thing is to get out of this place alive. Our enemy is probably lying in wait for us with a loaded gun at the top of the stairs. By the way, I caught only the merest glimpse of the face. Did you recognise it?" "Yes," I said; "it was the elder Miss Kingdon." Godfrey gave a little whistle. "It looked positively devilish," he said. "It gave me the worst scare I've had for a long time. Did you notice the eyes, how they glared at us?" "Yes," I said, and shivered a little. "I confess I don't like the thought of going up those stairs," he went on, "but there's no other way out. This window's too small. So we'll have to chance it. Give me your hand." I stretched out my uninjured hand. In an instant we were in darkness, and I knew that he had exchanged the torch for his revolver. "Come on," he whispered, and we started forward. At the foot of the stair we paused for a moment, listening; but no sound came from above. We mounted a step, two steps, three---- Suddenly I felt a convulsive pressure on my hand. From above came a quick succession of sharp taps, as of some one rapping with his knuckles upon the wall. It rose, fell, rose again---- Involuntarily we retreated to the foot of the stair and took refuge against the farther wall. The light flashed out again, and I saw Godfrey mopping his face with his handkerchief. As for myself, I was fairly bathed in perspiration. "What was it?" I asked hoarsely. "I don't know," Godfrey answered, in the same tone. "But I know one thing--if we stay down here much longer, we'll both of us lose our nerve completely. I'm going to make a dash for it," and he started for the cellar steps. I followed him, clenching my teeth convulsively.