"Ay! Kill her! Hang the girl!" "Stop! Stop!" Grocz grew desperate. "Listen. Do not kill her ... let us share her, as all good Communists should." As though at a signal the wild noise now ceased, while this fresh aspect of the situation slowly burned itself into the obtuse minds of the Communists. Wenzel had to close his eyes; a red filmy cloud floated before them, summoned by the boiling fury which surged up from his heart. Only with an effort of will did he pull himself together and think rationally--he wanted to throw open the door, throttle the vile laughter of the men with his hands, smash them with his fists, pound them to death. He knew that she had heard, for he heard her catch in her breath with a gush of horror, and felt her trembling. This time he could not mock her weakness. "The window," he prompted. "Had the worst come, I should have--have thrown myself out." "You mean--suicide?" "Yes," she breathed softly. "May Heaven forgive me for the thought." "What is below?--the courtyard?" "No, the Danube, fifty feet down." "The Danube!" So her room was on the fourth side of the castle? A fifty-foot drop--but if it were a clear fall into the water there would be at least a chance. "Is it a clear drop?" "Practically. The cliff at this part overhangs the edge of the water, and the castle is built on the extreme edge. With a good jump one might avoid the bank." "Yet you spoke of suicide!" "The current, monsieur, runs swiftly at this part. No one could hope to swim against it." Outside the Communists understood at last, and now, urged on by a different kind of excitement, the tumultuous clatter recommenced. "Break open the door! Let us feast our eyes upon her beauty." The pressure of weight was beginning to have its effect, for the door cracked suspiciously. So it seemed that Death might claim him at last! Wenzel felt a glow of contentment stealing over him. Perhaps Zita waited for him, there, just beyond the Veil, with outstretched arms.... "Mademoiselle, are you prepared to jump?" "Gladly. Death can be no worse than--than---- Oh, Mother in Heaven, what has happened to our unhappy country? Monsieur, I am ready." Not too soon. The door was groaning and splitting. She guided him to the window, and flung it open. Wenzel felt her raise herself up until she was standing on the ledge. He did the same, and so tall was the window that he, for all his height, could yet stand upright. Before them was a grim blackness, an abyss of gloom. Not even was there the light of a star to twinkle a message of confidence. Behind them an equal density, and men whose souls were blacker still. Nothing but impenetrable darkness in every direction.