She drew me back, and I yielded to the grasp of her hand. The darkness was intense, but she moved swiftly and surely, as though knowing intimately every inch of the way; her fingers touching mine were warm and firm, no longer trembling. Action had brought back her courage, and I felt my own heart beat stronger in response. Anything was better than hopeless waiting—any chance, any desperate effort. The door in front crashed, and an oath rumbled upward; to the rear a light flashed, its reflection reddening the stair. Aided by its distant flicker we raced back down the upper hall to where it narrowed. A ladder stood there leading upward to a small scuttle above. Instantly my mind grasped her plan—the attic! If we could attain the attic unseen, drawing the ladder up after us and lowering the cover over the hole, our presence in the house might remain unsuspected. It was a low, flat roof; the space above must be small, and, unless the fellows knew of this ladder and opening, the place would probably never be observed in the course of their hasty search of the rooms. Even at the worst our opportunity for defense would be better up above than in that open hallway.
"I see what you mean," I said swiftly. "Go up first, Miss Noreen—hurry. Is the ladder fastened to the floor?"
