WINNSOME'S VERDICT OF DEATH
Something in the strange fierceness of Neil's words startled Nathaniel, like the thrilling twinges of an electric shock. He darted across the cell and found Marion's brother with his shoulder against the door.
"It's open!" he whispered. "The door—is—open!"
The hinges creaked under his weight. A current of air struck them in the face. Another instant and they stood in the corridor, listening, crushing back the breath in their lungs, not daring to speak. Only the drip of water came to their ears. Gently Neil drew his companion back into the cell.
"There's a chance—one chance in ten thousand!" he whispered. "At the end of this corridor there is a door—the jailer's door. If that's not locked, we can make a run for it! I'd rather die fighting—than here!"
He slipped out again, pressing Nathaniel back.
"Wait for me!"
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