It brought a shriek of alarm to her lips, and she sprang quickly back from the curb over which she was stooping.

“Caramba!” she yelled, excitedly.  “That’s your game, is it?”

“You’ll find it is, if you approach that opening again!” cried Nick, half choked with smoke, while he fiercely strove to extinguish the blazing garments.

“Oh, I’ll not give you another chance at me!” screamed Cervera.  “I’ll push over something heavier, and crush out your life with—­”

She suddenly stopped, then held her breath and listened.

The crash of a breaking door reached her ears, then hurried footsteps began falling on the main stairway leading to her chamber.

“Some one is coming!” she fiercely muttered.  “Perhaps another detective!  I must be off!”

Yet so bitter was her hatred of Nick, and so intensely enjoyable to her the trick she had served him, that she lingered for an instant in the face of the impending danger, and screamed down the well, with a mocking laugh: 

“I’m obliged to leave you, Detective Carter!  While I’m gone—­keep whistling!”

At the same moment Chick Carter rushed into the chamber and caught a glimpse of her through the wreathing smoke, as she fled through the lighted passage.

One glance at the scene gave Chick the entire situation.

He drew back, took a short run, and with a magnificent bound cleared the open well, and leaped squarely through the closet and into the lighted passage.

Then the crash of a heavy door, suddenly closed, and the shooting of bolts, told him that Cervera had prevented pursuit for a time at least, and Chick swung round to the open well, to see if Nick needed him.

“Hello, Nick!” he shouted.  “The woman—­”

“Let her go!” roared Nick, still fiercely fighting the flames that threatened the woodwork of the well.  “Let her go—­we’ll get her later!  First save the house!”

“How can I reach you?”

“Through a door under the one in her chamber,” shouted Nick.  “Try that.”

Chick cleared the well with another leap, then dashed downstairs and into the parlor, which was lighted by the glare from both hall and library.

He quickly discovered the door—­only to find it locked and the key removed.

Chick was promptly equal to so slight an emergency, however.  Grasping a heavy stool near the piano, he swung it above his head, and with half a dozen rapid blows demolished most of the door, and forced it open.

A cloud of smoke floated into the room, but a glance showed Chick that Nick now had the flames extinguished.

“Are you all right, old man?” he demanded.

“Only a little in need of fresh air,” gasped Nick.  “You cannot reach down to me.”

“Wait a bit, then.  This will do the business!”

Chick had turned and snatched off the thick cloth covering of the piano, which he quickly twisted and lowered over the doorsill, and then braced himself to sustain Nick’s weight.