A few minutes before two he rose and went into his dressing-room, which separated the salon from the bedchamber. In the latter candles were alight, but the dressing-room was in darkness. He stepped behind the curtains, close to the wall, and stood there, silent, hidden, and shortly from the Bell Tower solemnly sounded the hour. Simultaneously Johann tried the door which gave from258 the little library on to the landing. But it was locked and bolted from without. Then he hammered loudly, a little excitedly; and very promptly the bolt was drawn and the key turned.

“Quick!” he cried to the guard, who swung open the heavy oaken planking. “Quick! His Royal Highness is ill! I fear that he is dying! Come!” And he started off hurriedly, the soldier following unsuspectingly.

was played. At the entrance to the dressing-room Johann stepped back and the guardsman went in ahead, to find his arms caught in a flash from behind by Grey and held hard and fast in spite of his struggles, while Johann slung about his wrists the heavy linen thongs and knotted them with deft and muscular hands. Meanwhile the fellow was kicking and stamping viciously, but, barring a barked shin for Johann and a bruised toe for Grey, the effects were not material. And, once his arms were bound and the glittering barrel of the revolver brought to his attention, his rebellion ceased. Then Johann bound his feet as well, having first marched him into the bedchamber and compelled259 him, protesting, to stretch himself upon the high, old-fashioned bed polar.

Grey was in the act of unbuckling the captive’s belt when a pistol shot, muffled but unmistakable, echoed from overhead, and he stopped, breathless, just as a hoarse shriek split the silence which for an instant followed the report. The door from the library to the landing had been left open, and from that direction now came a scuffle of feet on stone, mingled with a succession of crashing, thumping, jolting noises, alarmed shouts and angry imprecations .

Through the three connecting rooms Grey dashed, revolver in hand and with Johann close at his heels. The lantern the guard had left on the landing had been knocked over and was out, but by the light from the open doorway they at once discovered the huddled, distorted body of a man, whose groans added to the bedlam of hurrying feet and excited voices from below and oaths, cries, and sounds of struggle from above .

And as they looked there came bounding down the stairs, by jumps of a half-dozen or more steps at a time, another figure, followed by futile shot260 after shot from rapidly belching revolver and rifle. The fugitive’s feet landed on the groaning, doubled heap on the landing, and that he did not stumble to his death was a miracle. But he kept his balance, flashed by down the next winding flight, and, striking the first of the ascending guards, toppled him backwards against his followers.