Cruel As The Grave

Munson smiled to himself.

Then Purley reiterated all his cautions for the careful guarding of his

charge, and at length bade his comrade good-night, and retired to the

vacant chamber, to guard the door on that side.

Munson drew his mattress across the hall-door as he had been directed to

do, and laid himself down in all his clothes--not to sleep, but to

listen and watch until the house should grow quiet; for on this night he

was resolved to effect the deliverance of Sybil, or perish in the

attempt.

Meanwhile Mr. and Mrs. Berners had retired to their chamber--not to

rest, but to wait for events; for on this night a sure presentiment

informed them that Robert Munson, on guard there at their outer door,

would be sure to use his opportunities for attempting a rescue. So they

quietly coöperated with what they divined to be his intentions.

First Sybil went and hung a towel over the knob of the lock, so as to

darken the key-hole of the door guarded by Purley. Then she slipped the

bolt, saying: "He may guard us if he must, but he shall neither look in upon us, nor

intrude upon us, if I can help it."

And then, instead of undressing for bed, they did the opposite thing,

and quietly dressed for an escape. And lastly, they concealed their

money and jewels about their persons, and threw a few of the most

necessary articles for their journey into one travelling bag, and then

sat down to listen and watch on the inside, as their friend was

listening and watching on the outside.

Then they heard Purley arranging and re-arranging his bed against his

door, and tumbling down upon it, like a man utterly overcome by fatigue

and drowsiness; after which all was silent, until the stertorous

breathing of the bailiff assured them of the depth of his sleep. After

that, not a sound was heard in the house. Lyon looked at his watch. It

was but nine o'clock, though the whole house was at rest. In these

remote country places, people go to roost with the fowls, or very soon

after.

Still for another hour of silent, breathless suspense they waited; and

then they heard a faint tapping on the door that was guarded by Munson.

Mr. Berners went up, and tapped gently in response.

"Hist!" breathed the voice from without, through the key-hole.

"Well!" murmured Lyon, through the same channel.

"Take some of the melted tallow on the top of your candle, and grease

the key-hole as well as you can, and then I will come in and talk to

you, if you will let me."

"Thanks; yes."

And Mr. Berners did as he was requested to do, and Munson slipped his

key into the lubricated key-hole, and silently unlocked the door.