MY LADY OF THE SOUTH
Everything on the inside was, seemingly, as we had left it; the revolving door must have been operated from within the house, and, as I searched in vain for any sign of a secret spring, I swore at myself for a fool for not having posted a guard in protection. Who could have done this? Surely that heavy mantel would never have swung back into position without human assistance. Who in the house would have any reason to operate it except Jean Denslow? The possibility of her escaping from that room in which I had locked her had not before seriously occurred to me, yet hers was a nature to dare much, and achieve. Besides, she would have an object in such an act, and sufficient spirit to carry it out. If she had done the trick, then she would be on guard within. I had no hope she would open to me, but the knowledge of Donald's serious condition might appeal to her. Partisan as she was, loyal to her cause, yet the woman in her would conquer. I rapped against the front of the chimney, pausing to listen, but hearing no sound in response. Then I put my lips close and spoke loud enough so I felt certain my voice would carry to the hall without.
"Miss Denslow, are you there?"
Nothing beyond the dim echo rewarded this effort; yet so convinced was I of her presence that I persevered, determined to say something which should arouse her to betrayal.
"I am Lieutenant King; we found Colonel Donald seriously wounded, in the tunnel, and I have come back after help. For the sake of his life open this door."
I heard her then distinctly, her voice sounding so clearly
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