The soldier was evidently figuring in his mind as to what would be the next move on his part.[109] Finding no sign of life in the place where he expected, no doubt, to lay a hand or an eye on the impertinent party that had stolen the flagon, the chasseur seemed to hesitate about dropping down into what must have appeared to him a dungeon, and risking the chance of a hidden enemy leaping upon him from some shadowy corner. It apparently occurred to him that more light would clear the problem, for he drew himself up to a sitting position on the cross-piece, produced a match and scratched it across the sole of his shoe.
The tiny flicker did not give much satisfaction. The shadows were too deep for a little flame like that to penetrate them to any great distance.
The boys stood like statues, flat against the wall, on the same side, and some twenty feet from the opening where the soldier was wasting matches. The darkness hung about them like a pall.
It was one exciting moment when Billy had a sneeze coming on, and did not know whether or not he could conquer it. A sneeze just then would have settled the whole business.
But Billy did not sneeze; he nearly suffocated, though, by holding his cap so closely against his face.
The soldier had apparently exhausted his supply of matches, for the final scratch was accompanied by a grunt that sounded like sacres allumettes, blasted matches.
[110]
With that he swung himself down into the passage on the other side of the opening.
Billy, after a few minutes’ wait, made a move toward the opening.
Henri laid a restraining hand upon Billy’s arm.
“Wait a bit,” he whispered, “better let Reddy do his shadow act and find out where our friend in the red trousers has taken himself.”
Reddy instantly shifted his heavily laden knapsack from his shoulders, removed his gold-filled jacket, kicked off his shoes, and edged his way along the wall on tiptoes.
Under the opening he stood in listening attitude for several minutes; then, taking advantage of the rough stonework of the inside wall, he climbed like a squirrel to the cross-piece.
Cautiously poking his head through the opening, Reddy had another look and listened for his fellow countryman in uniform.
The soldier was nowhere to be seen—and Reddy could view the short passage as far as the foot of the spiral staircase, where the light came down from the open plate above.
Reddy lowered himself into the passage and cat-footed to the staircase, winding his way upward, every nerve on edge, and he ready for any emergency.
The soldier was not in evidence yet, but Reddy could now trace the chasseur by the marks on the[111] dusty floor of the passage, for it was still light up here, though the sun, it could be seen through the panel opening in the royal bed chamber, was sinking, and evening was near.
With eyes to the floor and crouched like an Indian trailer, the boy noted that the chasseur had gone toward the panel opening into the dining-hall, at least the traces showed that the footmarks reversed themselves, retracing in............