For several hours Francisco and his son sat on the bundle of straw listening intently to every sound, being naturally filled with anxiety as to the success of Bacri in his efforts to aid Mariano. At last they heard a loud knocking at the street door, which, after being repeated impatiently once or twice, was followed by a thunderous noise, as if the house were being entered by violence.

 

“The janissaries have returned,” said Francisco, with a serious look.

 

“We had better put out the light,” suggested Lucien, as a crashing sound announced the bursting in of the door.

 

“Do, lad.—Stay, let me get hold of this crowbar; it is better than nothing if it comes to—. Now, out with it!”

 

A moment more and they were in total darkness, while the trampling of feet overhead and the shouts of many voices told that the mob had entered the Jew’s dwelling.

 

Every moment the two prisoners expected to see the trap-door of their retreat wrenched open, but no one seemed to have discovered it, and they were beginning to breathe more freely, and to hope that they should escape, when there came a sudden and violent stamping just overhead. Then there was a sound of breaking timber, and presently the edge of the trap-door began to lift and creak under the pressure of some powerful instrument. Another moment and it flew open and a man looked in, but of course could see nothing. Descending the steps, he called loudly for a light, and one of his comrades brought a lantern, with which he was about to descend, but, missing his footstep, he fell to the ground and extinguished it.

 

At that moment Lucien and his father drew back into the darkest part of the cellar, in the shadow of a small projection.

 

“Fetch another light!” shouted the soldiers.

 

“Now’s our time,” whispered Lucien, grasping his scimitar and preparing for a dash.

 

“Not yet,” replied his father, laying a strong grasp on his arm.

 

It was well that Lucien was restrained, for, while the soldiers were clamouring for a light, their comrades above gave a shout as though something new and surprising had been discovered. Full of curiosity, the soldiers in the cellar darted out.

 

“Now!” whispered Francisco.

 

Lucien at once sprang up the ladder, but looked out cautiously; for the sudden change in the sounds above apprised him that the robbers had left the apartment.

 

He saw them busy ransacking a cupboard in which the Jew had placed a large quantity of plate, a little of which was solid, and a large portion showy, but comparatively valueless. It had been arranged by him in such a way as to make a superb show of wealth, in the hope that it might tempt any who should take a fancy to rob his house to expend much of their labour and energy on that horde, thereby creating an important diversion from much more valuable deposits made elsewhere.

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