"'Tis ze right room. You are to come oop."
A rustling noise, as of foliage shaken, rising from below warned the Duke that if he waited longer he might be beset by a horde of assailants. It spurred him to instant action. Set in the wall close to his place of concealment was the switch of the electric light, and stretching out his left hand he turned it on, at the same time stepping forward and covering Ziegler with his pistol. The old man blinked at him in the sudden glow, and then, quietly turning, shut the door. His object must have been to prevent his voice penetrating into the house, for he croaked out to the Frenchwoman by the window the petulant order:
The maid, relaxing the venomous glare with which she was regarding Beaumanoir, put out her head and obeyed. A renewal of the rustling and the sound of heavy breathing told her that her request had been heard, and drew a harsh laugh from Ziegler. Fixing the Duke with a cruel gaze, he remarked calmly, in his thin falsetto:
"The champion safe-cracksman of America will be here in a moment. Your Grace will have the opportunity of seeing a very pretty piece of work if you care to remain till I have exchanged this package for the one inside. You are not going to be fool enough to use that pistol and give yourself away at this stage, and if you were, my friend Benzon would be equal to the occasion." And holding up the parcel of tissue paper which he had received from Forsyth in the crypt, he shook it mockingly at the Duke.
But in so doing he reckoned literally without his host. With a spring that wrenched his lame foot painfully Beaumanoir leaped upon him, and, crushing the white beard to a throat that somehow seemed less scraggy than might have been expected, dragged him to the door and contrived to get it open with his left hand. So struggling, the pair stumbled into the corridor, and Beaumanoir was about to shout lustily for help, when his voice dwindled into a panting:
"Thank God you've come! I've got this one, but there is a woman in there, and--and others are coming in through the window."
For in the corridor, hurrying towards him, were General Sadgrove, Senator Sherman, and Alec Forsyth, each with revolvers in their hands, while Sybil Hanbury brought up the rear, looking as if she resented that position. In the presence of this formidable phalanx Beaumanoir felt his captive wilt in his grasp, and indeed he himself was swept back by it, still holding on, into the muniment room, where the woman Rosa was in the act of retreating from the window. The General took command quite naturally, bidding Forsyth guard the door, while he himself advanced to the window, very stern and upright, and muttering as he went: