When the quest for the secret spring appeared so hopeless that he began to think the discovery was impossible, his finger, which travelled over the face of the rock near by this door very delicately, marked something unlike what was near it. He pressed the spot, and to his wonder and relief, and yet almost to his alarm, because of what might follow, the door moved slowly back to the left, and there was an open space before him. CHAPTER XXIII IN THE LION'S MOUTH For a little while Herman's courage failed him. To ascend those steps which he could see would probably mean such fearful experiences that the bravest of the brave might shrink back and leave his task undone. Yet now that he had such unquestionable proof that Margaret had been at this door, and as certainly had entered it in the company of the black-robed ones of the Inquisition, how could he think other than that she was lying in one of the cells, if not already enduring torture? Loving her as he did, he could not be so craven as to turn away and leave her in the hands of the tormentors! The bare suggestion in his mind that she might possibly have been done to death made his soul stand up in arms, and his hesitation was gone in an instant. He ascended the steps without halting until he came to the topmost one and found himself looking along a passage with doors on either side. Were they the doors of cells, such as he had heard spoken of so often in the city, when men and women talked with bated breath of the horrors of the Holy House? And if they were, was Margaret in one of them? The nearest door, when he ventured so far, opened as he pressed his hand against it. Looking in, he found the cell empty. It was the same with the next, the third, and the fourth, for he tried each door on either side. All were empty, but the straw lay on the floors, and the rats scrambled away when he entered. They had come to these dismal places to root among the straw for any crusts that might have been left by the prisoners who last occupied the cells. Every place in the passage was unoccupied, and Herman ventured up twenty more steps to find himself in some open ground--a great garden bounded by some very high walls. He was so near to one of them that by the aid of the moon he could see the iron spikes which rendered escape impossible if any poor prisoner made the attempt. He was in the greatest quandary now, for, looking along the garden, the immensity of the place set him wondering how he could possibly find Margaret. Some sixty yards away, beyond the grass and bushes, was the main building, and his darling must be there; but in which part? And how was he to enter unseen? If he passed along the passage at the top of this last flight of steps, what could he do? The cells that were occupied would be bolted and barred, and there was nothing to indicate the name of the victim on the other side of those strong, iron-sheeted doors.