The door shook even as he spoke under an angry summons.

As he stiffened where he stood, his eyes fixed upon it, his hand still pointing her to his bidding, a face showed white at the window and vanished again.

An instant he imagined it Basterga's; and hand, voice, eyes, all hung frozen.

Then he saw his mistake--to whomsoever the face belonged, it was not Basterga's; and finding voice and breath again, "Quick!" he muttered fiercely, "do you hear, girl?
Get it! Get it before they enter!" Her hand was on the latch of the inner door.

Another second and, swayed by his will, she would have gone up and got the thing he needed, and the stout door would have shielded them, and within the staircase he might have taken it from her and no one been the wiser.