Twice she half arose and started forward with a quick sigh of relief, only to sink back again dejectedly upon discovering that she had been mistaken in the identity of a newcomer.
Half-past one, then two o'clock.

The merry-makers were thinning out; she was quite alone at her end of the place.

By this time a close observer might have noticed that she was trembling violently; there was an air of abject fear and despair in her manner.
Why did he not come?
What had happened?
Had the plot failed?
Was he even now lying wounded unto death as the result of his effort to escape captivity?
A hundred horrid thoughts raced through her throbbing, overwrought brain.

He should have been with her two hours ago--he should now be far on his way to freedom.

Alas, something appalling had happened, she was sure of it.
At last there hove in sight, coming from the direction in which lay the prison, a group of three men.