leaded glass beside the door. He had yet ten minutes.
He retraced in part his steps, followed the narrow path to the foot of the hill and entered the vault. Feeling his way along the sides to the arched niche in the rear, he pressed his shoulder heavily against the right side of the smooth stone wall forming the back of the niche, and felt it instantly give. The rush of damp air told him that the old underground way was open.
He smiled with satisfaction. He knew that this passage led through a blind wall in the basement of the house and up into the great hall by a panel in the oak wainscoting under the stairs.
"It's easy! My men could seize him without a struggle!" he said grimly, slowly allowing the door to settle back of its own weight into place again.
He stood for a moment in the darkness of the vault, clinched his fist at last and exclaimed:
"I'll do it!—but I prefer the front door. I'll try that first."
A few minutes later he had reached the house, knocked loudly and stood waiting an answer.
Aunt Julie Ann's black face smiled him a hearty welcome.
"Come right in, Marse John, honey, an' make yo' sef at home. I sho is glad ter see ye!"
John walked deliberately across the hall and sat
