Page:Randall Parrish - The Red Mist.djvu/234

 218 distinguish the tapping of the leader's foot on the floor almost directly above my head. The noise made by the dancers was muffled and confused, and, while I knew there were voices talking, and could occasionally catch the sound of a laugh, the whole was merely a din, entirely meaningless. The grim incongruity of that merry party above, dancing and laughing in the bright light, and of myself in that black cell below, waiting the certainty of death the next morning, served to steel my resolve—the affair was like an insult, and I felt my blood grow hot in my veins as the strains of a waltz and schottish mingled with the uproar of nimble feet. I would take the chance, and it might as well be now.

I could hear nothing of the guard in the corridor, although I listened intently, my ear against the iron door, during a lull in that babel overhead. It was hardly likely another inspection would be made, at least not until the sentries were again relieved, probably at midnight. To my judgment this would allow me nearly three hours in which to make my effort—and surely half that time should prove sufficient. The band burst into harmony again—a polka, I remember—and I tore free the loosened support. It made an ugly bit of iron, well adapted for the purpose I had in mind. Not only could it be utilized as a lever, but it was no mean weapon for use in emergency.