But our start had saved us, and we flew up the steps as his feet ceased to clatter on the path; he had plunged into the grass to cut off the corner.
"Thank God!" cried Eva.

"Now shut it quick." The great door swung home with a mighty clatter, and Eva seized the key in both hands.
"I can't turn it!" To lose a second was to take a life, and unconsciously I was sticking at that, perhaps from no higher instinct than distrust of my aim.

Our pursuer, however, was on the steps when I clapped my free hand on top of those little white straining ones, and by a timely effort bent both them and the key round together; the ward shot home as Jose hurled himself against the door.

Eva bolted it.

But the thud was not repeated, and I gathered myself together between the door and the nearest window, for by now I saw there was but one thing for us.