in his hand.

"And if I sign, you will bring Sylvia here? You will promise me
that--upon your word of honour?"

"Yes, we promise you," was the man's reply.

"I want to see Marlowe, if he is here."

"I tell you he's not here. He's across the way with her."

I believe, if I could have got to my revolver at that moment, I should
have shot the fellow dead. I bit my lip, and remained silent.

I now felt no doubt that this was the trap of which Sylvia had given
me warning on that moonlit terrace beside the Italian lake. By some
unaccountable means she knew what was intended against me. This clever
trapping of men was apparently a regular trade of theirs!

If I could but gain time I felt that I might outwit them. Yet, sitting
there like a trussed fowl, I must have cut a pretty sorry figure. How
many victims had, like myself, sat there and been "bled"?

"Come," exclaimed the red-faced adventurer impatiently, "we are losing
time. Are you going to sign the cheque, or not?"

"I shall not," was my firm response. "You already have stolen one
cheque of mine."

"And we shall cash it when your bank opens in the morning, my dear
sir," remarked Forbes airily.

"And make yourselves scarce afterwards, eh? But I've had a good look
at you, remember; I could identify you anywhere," I said.

"You won't have that chance, I'm afraid," declared Reckitt meaningly.
"You must think we're blunderers, if you contemplate that!" and he
grinned at his companion.

"Now," he added, turning again to me; "for the last time I ask you if
you will sign this cheque I have written."

"And for the last time I tell you that you are a pair of blackguards,
and that I will do nothing of the sort."

"Not even if we bring the girl here--to you?"

I hesitated, much puzzled by the strangeness of the attitude of the
pair. Their self-confidence was amazing.

"Sign it," he urged. "Sign it in your own interests--and in hers."

"Why in hers?"

"You will see, after you have appended your signature."

"When I have seen her I will sign," I replied at last; "but not
before. You seem to have regarded me as a pigeon to pluck. But you'll
find out I'm a hawk before you've done with me."

"I think not," smiled the cool-mannered Reckitt. "Even if you are a
hawk, you're caged. You must admit that!"

"I shall shout murder, and alarm the police," I threatened.

"Shout away, my dear fellow," replied my captor. "No sound can be
heard outside this room. Shriek! W