To de Sigognac this delay was maddening, for
he knew that the Duke of Vallombreuse had carried Isabelle away, and
that he must still be with her. He worked like a giant himself, and
incited the others to redouble their efforts; making battering rams
of various pieces of furniture--resorting to every means that their
ingenuity could devise--but without making the least impression on the
massive barrier. They had paused in dismay, when suddenly a slight,
grinding noise was heard, like a key turning in a lock, and the door, so
unsuccessfully attacked, opened as if by magic before them.
"What good angel has come to our aid?" cried de Sigognac; "and by what
miracle does this door open of itself, after having so stoutly resisted
all our efforts?"
"There is neither angel nor miracle; only Chiquita," answered a quiet
little voice, as the child appeared from behind the door, and fixed her
great, dark, liquid eyes calmly on de Sigognac. She had managed to slip
out with Vallombreuse and Isabelle, entirely unnoticed by the former,
and in the hope of being of use to the latter.
"Where is Isabelle?" cried the baron, as he crossed the threshold and
looked anxiously round the anteroom, which was dimly lighted by one
little flickering lamp.
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