The handle of the door was tried, gently.  Then there was silence again.

“Give us the woman and you may go free.”

The words were not spoken loudly.  It seemed like the offer of a secret bargain, a suggestion in it that the woman might not hear, and might never know that her companions had betrayed her to save themselves.

Then Jeanne spoke, in a whisper but quite clearly.

“It is the end.  You have done all that a man could do.  I thank you—­I thank you; and you, too, Seth.  A woman never had truer friends.”

She stretched out a hand to Seth, who caught it almost roughly and pressed his lips to it.

There was pressure upon the door, and the cracking of the wood.

“There’s quick death for the first man who crosses this threshold,” Seth muttered as he went to the door.

“Richard!  Richard!”

“Jeanne!”

Barrington’s head was lowered as he whispered her name.  It seemed as though failure had made him ashamed.

“I know your secret, dear, I know it and am glad,” she whispered.  “I thank God that I am loved by such a man.  I would rather be where I am at this moment, by your side, than in the place of any other woman in the world, however free she may be.  Richard, kiss me.”

“Jeanne!  Jeanne!” he cried as he caught her in his arms.  “I love you!  I love you!  God, send a miracle to help us.”

“He will let us be together soon and for always, if not here, in heaven,” she whispered.

“The door gives, Master Richard,” Seth said.

“Back into the corner, Jeanne.  Who knows what may happen?”

“We may win through, Master Richard.  Be ready, the door will be down in a moment.”

The clumsy saber with which Seth had provided him was in his hand, as he stepped forward in readiness.  They might have retreated through the other rooms, to the one into which they had climbed, closing every door they could in the face of their enemies, but for what purpose?  There was no escape that way, time was no object to them, whereas it was just possible that their assailants would expect them to do this and rush past them.  Barrington hastily whispered this possibility to Seth.  There was no time for an answer.  The door splintered and broke, and the foremost ruffians were shot into the room by the pressure of those behind.  There was no rush towards the rooms beyond, nor a shout of triumph even.  The first articulate sound was a cry from the man cut down by Seth.

In the fierce struggle of an unequal fight a man thinks little.  The forcible present of each moment obliterates the past and future.  Just for one instant it occurred to Barrington that Jeanne might possibly escape unnoticed if Seth and he fought savagely enough, and the next moment he was putting this idea into action without any thought beyond it.  In the doorway there were men holding dim lanterns, and the light flickered on savage faces, now here, now there.