[The Refugees by Arthur Conan Doyle]@TWC D-Link book
The Refugees

CHAPTER XVIII
12/21

Well, maybe he'll get a stroke, or break his neck down those stairs.

I've nothing to work with now, but a few rubs with your bar will finish the job.

Ah, dear! You are right, and we are fairly treed!" A great bell had begun to ring in the chateau, and there was a loud buzz of voices and a clatter of feet upon the stones.

Hoarse orders were shouted, and there was the sound of turning keys.

All this coming suddenly in the midst of the stillness of the night showed only too certainly that the alarm had been given.


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