"That cannot be; only remember what I told you--if you want a taunt to hurl at the tyrant's head, a taunt that will stab him through his self-admiration, you know now what to say. Soon they will be here for you. Ah!" here she broke off, as though a new thought had come to her. "On these days they are all assembled outside--all the men. Only the women and children are left within their dens. Oh, if I could but get free for half an hour! I know some of their secrets, and could play a trick upon them that would go far to square accounts between us. But, of course," she added mournfully, "it is foolishness to think of it." Overhead could now be heard the scuffling of many footsteps, and, anon, more drum-beating, with much blowing of horns and trumpets. Next, there were shouting and cheering, followed by what appeared to be a speech from some one; but the words were not intelligible to the two anxious listeners. At one time the noise had brought a faint hope into Leonard's mind that it might portend the approach of friends; but the words Fernina had just spoken quickly dissipated any such idea. Presently, steps were heard in the gallery outside, a key was inserted in the lock, and two of Coryon's black-coated soldiers entered. They were both armed with drawn swords; and one of them, addressing Leonard in gruff accents, said, "You are to come with us." Then, turning to his comrade, he asked, "Have you the cord?" "No," was the reply, "I thought you had it." "And I thought you were bringing it. Go, get it." The man went out. Then he who had remained, raising a warning hand to Leonard, addressed him in low, guarded tones. "The lord Monella," he said, "is hastening to thine aid with many armed followers; but he has been detained in the underground pass. Whether he will arrive in time, I know not; if not and thou be harmed, thou wilt be avenged." "Who art thou, then?" asked Leonard. "A friend of the lord Monella's." "And my other friend--what of him?" "He was a prisoner, but escaped, and has gone--I know not whither." "Heaven be praised for that! Ah, I can guess where he has gone!" Just then a sudden thought came into Leonard's head. "See, friend," he said earnestly, "canst thou not turn the key in the lock of the next cell and give the poor creature there one little chance for liberty?" "I do not know, but I will see. If the key fits, I might." "Quick, then, ere thy fellow returns." The man hastily took out the key and tried it in the lock of the woman's cell; it fitted, and he unlocked the door; then withdrawing the key, he replaced it in the door of Leonard's cell. "Roll that log to the door to keep it close till you think it safe to venture out," Leonard advised the woman. She had but just done so when they heard the steps of the other soldier in the gallery. "What is thy name, friend?" Leonard asked him in a whisper.