By a hasty glance from the window, Gray saw that the court-yard was full of armed men, who, with drawn swords and bent cross bows, were crowding into the staircase. He saw James of Abercorn, who was on horseback, and who shook his gauntleted hand towards him; he saw that the garden, the gate, the wynd, and every avenue to escape were beset by glittering pikes and partisans, and a cold perspiration burst over his brow at the sudden prospect of helplessly suffering a cruel and violent death. His heart was almost too full for words; but he kissed Murielle tenderly. "Long, long, it may be," he said, with a foreboding sigh, "ere that dear kiss can be repeated--it may be _never_; but oh, Murielle, tide what may, let no other efface it from your beloved lips!" The voices and clatter of arms came nearer. "Save him, sister--save him, Maggie. You may and _can_ do it!" exclaimed Murielle, rushing to the door of the large chamber, which she closed, and drew across into the stone socket the massive oak bar by which it was secured. She had barely achieved this ere the din of blows from mailed hands, from sword-hilts, and the butts of crossbows and partisans, rang upon it in a shower. Many fierce voices summoned those who were within to open; otherwise, that fire would be applied to force an entrance. Drawing his sword and dagger, Gray was about to unclose it, and attempt to hew a passage through them--an attempt which would inevitably have ended where it began, as there were a legion of foes without, all thirsting for vengeance, eager for outrage and homicide--all men inured to daily turbulence, peril, and bloodshed. The clatter and uproar increased rapidly, as the numbers outside seemed to multiply. The door, though of solid oak, was yielding fast, and already the blades of several swords were repeatedly passed through it, and withdrawn to give place to others. "Save him, Maggie dear--dear sister, save him, in mercy to me, if not to himself," implored Murielle, clinging to the waist of Margaret, who stood haughtily erect, like a tragedy-queen, with a sneer upon her proud lip, while undisguised alarm was now expressed in her fine eyes, at the prospect of seeing Gray butchered in her presence, though she hated him in her heart; "save him, sister, save him!" "Am I an armed man?" she asked coldly. "In what fashion am I to save your minion?" "Ha!--by the stair--the secret stair. Oh God, how that door shakes--in another moment it will yield!--the secret stair--the abbot gave you the key." "True," said Margaret, as she drew a key from her bosom, and tossed it contemptuously on the floor. With a cry of joy Murielle picked it up, and, seizing Gray by the hand, said, "You are saved--quick--come this way." At the side of one of the deeply-embayed windows she withdrew the arras, and unlocked a little door which gave access to a narrow passage, formed in the thickness of the ancient wall.