They soon reached the place, however, where, as they anticipated, Paul was found in a state of blissful insensibility to either friend or foe. He had speedily felt the soothing effect of the drug, and had sat down with his back to the wall. But he had quickly slidden from that position and was now lying flat along, in a sound sleep, and breathing heavily. "Oh, dear!" almost shrieked Jeannette, as she witnessed Paul's insensible condition. "He's not dead, is he, my lady?" "No, he is not, you simpleton! Now let us be quick, Jeannette! Reach the keys from his girdle. May Heaven help us!" said Alice, devoutly crossing herself. But she dared not give utterance to her fears in presence of her maid, whose condition was plainly visible to her. Jeannette snatched the keys from Paul's girdle, and Alice thrust the clumsy piece of metal into the door; but she had to apply her utmost strength ere the rusty bolt shot back with a loud snap. Then, applying her strength to the heavy oaken door, it recoiled slowly on its rusty hinges, with a horrid, creaking noise which grated fearfully on the excited nerves of the pair. Immediately, as the torch's flickering light fell dimly across the cell, their eyes fell upon the captive chief, who was chained to the wall by heavy chains, but nevertheless stood erect, with distended nostrils, clenched hands, and threatening attitude. He was evidently expecting a midnight assassin, and though manacled and bound hand and foot, he would fight it out to the end. Alice started back, trembling violently, as she beheld the fierce attitude of Oswald; and the last spark of Jeannette's courage disappeared, for, with a shriek, she clutched the arm of her mistress and tried to drag her away. "Hush, Jeannette! Be still," cried Alice beseechingly; "we shall be discovered if you do not be quiet." The scene was a graphic one truly. The two timid women stood on the threshold of the cell, cowed by the savage attitude of the captive, and afraid to advance a step, though bent on doing a deed of mercy. Oswald also was strangely bewildered at the sight of such gentle visitors; for, as the torch was held aloft, the uncertain light revealed to him the forms of two timid and graceful women, and one of them, at least, bearing evidence of gentle blood and gentle manners. His muscles relaxed and his manacled hands fell to his side, and the heavy irons clanked horribly in the vaulted cell. This still further terrified the visitors, and Jeannette, whose nerves were at their utmost tension, with a shriek involuntarily bounded over the sleeping form of Paul Lazaire, and fled like the wind along the corridors, leaving her mistress alone with the captive chieftain. The awful silence was broken by Oswald, who said, "Be not afraid, gentle lady. I was expecting some red-handed murderer and the cold steel; but methinks so fair a messenger should bear a message of mercy."