then it'll be too late! For the last time, Strangwise, will you
clear out?"

There was a moment's pause. Then Desmond heard Strangwise's
clear, calm voice.

"There's a balcony there... below the window, I mean."

"I've looked," replied Bellward, "and he's not there. You can see
for yourself!"

The moment of discovery had arrived. To Desmond the strain seemed
unbearable and to alleviate it, he began to count, as one counts
to woo sleep. One! two! three! four! He heard a grating noise as
the window was pushed further up. Five! six! seven! eight!

"Strange!"

Strangwise muttered the word just above Desmond's head. Then, to
his inexpressible relief, he heard the other add:

"He's not there!"

And Desmond realized that the depth of the balcony had saved him.
Short of getting out of the window, as he had done, the others
could not see him.

The two men returned to the room and silence fell once more.
Outside on the damp balcony in the growing darkness Desmond was
fighting down the impulse to rush in and stake all in one
desperate attempt to rescue the girl from her persecutors. But he
was learning caution; and he knew he must bide his time.

Some five minutes elapsed during which Desmond could detect no
definite sound from the red lacquer room except the occasional
low murmur of voices. Then, suddenly, there came a high,
quavering cry from the girl.

Desmond raised himself quickly erect, his ear turned so as to
catch every sound from the room. The girl wailed again, a
plaintive, tortured cry that seemed to issue forth unwillingly
from her.

"My God!" said Desmond to himself, "I can't stand this!"

His head was level with the sill of the window which was
fortunately broad. Getting a good grip on the rough cement with
his hands, he hoisted himself up on to the sill, by the sheer
force of his arms alone, sat poised there for an instant, then
very lightly and without any noise, clambered through the window
and into the room. Even as he did so, the girl cried out again.

"I can't! I can't!" she wailed.

Every nerve in Desmond's body was tingling with rage. The blood
was hotly throbbing against his temples and he was literally
quivering all over with fury. But he held himself in check. This
time he must not fail. Both those men were armed, he knew. What
chance could he, unarmed as he was, have against them? He must
wait, wait, that they might not escape their punishment.

Steadying the black silk curtains wi