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"
Hang
it
!
"
muttered
the
Persian
.
"
I
don
’
t
know
what
they
are
looking
for
,
but
they
might
easily
find
us
.
.
.
Let
us
get
away
,
quick
!
.
.
.
Your
hand
up
,
sir
,
ready
to
fire
!
.
.
.
Bend
your
arm
.
.
.
more
.
.
.
that
’
s
it
!
.
.
.
Hand
at
the
level
of
your
eye
,
as
though
you
were
fighting
a
duel
and
waiting
for
the
word
to
fire
!
Oh
,
leave
your
pistol
in
your
pocket
.
Quick
,
come
along
,
down
-
stairs
.
Level
of
your
eye
!
Question
of
life
or
death
!
.
.
.
Here
,
this
way
,
these
stairs
!
"
They
reached
the
fifth
cellar
.
"
Oh
,
what
a
duel
,
sir
,
what
a
duel
!
"
Once
in
the
fifth
cellar
,
the
Persian
drew
breath
.
He
seemed
to
enjoy
a
rather
greater
sense
of
security
than
he
had
displayed
when
they
both
stopped
in
the
third
;
but
he
never
altered
the
attitude
of
his
hand
.
And
Raoul
,
remembering
the
Persian
’
s
observation
—
"
I
know
these
pistols
can
be
relied
upon
"
—
was
more
and
more
astonished
,
wondering
why
any
one
should
be
so
gratified
at
being
able
to
rely
upon
a
pistol
which
he
did
not
intend
to
use
!
But
the
Persian
left
him
no
time
for
reflection
.
Telling
Raoul
to
stay
where
he
was
,
he
ran
up
a
few
steps
of
the
staircase
which
they
had
just
left
and
then
returned
.
"
How
stupid
of
us
!
"
he
whispered
.
"
We
shall
soon
have
seen
the
end
of
those
men
with
their
lanterns
.
It
is
the
firemen
going
their
rounds
.
"
The
two
men
waited
five
minutes
longer
.
Then
the
Persian
took
Raoul
up
the
stairs
again
;
but
suddenly
he
stopped
him
with
a
gesture
.
Something
moved
in
the
darkness
before
them
.
"
Flat
on
your
stomach
!
"
whispered
the
Persian
.
The
two
men
lay
flat
on
the
floor
.
They
were
only
just
in
time
.
A
shade
,
this
time
carrying
no
light
,
just
a
shade
in
the
shade
,
passed
.
It
passed
close
to
them
,
near
enough
to
touch
them
.
They
felt
the
warmth
of
its
cloak
upon
them
.
