rtainly giants in these days, and we have caught one.
You will please see that the cylinder of your revolver is in good order
and prepare to act as clerk of our court-martial. If the prisoner moves,
shoot him."

He spoke these last words very deliberately in German, and the
Servian's small eyes blinked his comprehension. Armitage sat down on the
writing-table, with his own revolver and the prisoner's knives and pistol
within reach of his available hand. A smile of amusement played over his
face as he scrutinized the big body and its small, bullet-like head.

"He is a large devil," commented Oscar.

"He is large, certainly," remarked Armitage. "Give him a chair. Now," he
said to the man in deliberate German, "I shall say a few things to you
which I am very anxious for you to understand. You are a Servian."

The man nodded.

"Your name is Zmai Miletich."

The man shifted his great bulk uneasily in his chair and fastened his
lusterless little eyes upon Armitage.

"Your name," repeated Armitage, "is Zmai Miletich; your home is, or was,
in the village of Toplica, where you were a blacksmith until you became a
thief. You are employed as an assassin by two gentlemen known as
Chauvenet and Durand--do you follow me?"

The man was indeed following him with deep engrossment. His narrow
forehead was drawn into minute wrinkles; his small eyes seemed to recede
into his head; his great body turned uneasily.

"I ask you again," repeated Armitage, "whether you follow me. There must
be no mistake."

Oscar, anxious to take his own part in the conversation, prodded Zmai in
the ribs with a pistol barrel, and the big fellow growled and nodded his
head.

"There is a house in the outskirts of Vienna where you have been employed
at times as gardener, and another house in Geneva where you wait for
orders. At this latter place it was my great pleasure to smash you in the
head with a boiling-pot on a certain evening in March."

The man scowled and ejaculated an oath with so much venom that Armitage
laughed.

"Your conspirators are engaged upon a succession of murders, and
when they have removed the last obstacle they will establish a new
Emperor-king in Vienna and you will receive a substantial reward for
what you have done--"

The blood suffused the man's dark face, and he half rose, a great roar of
angry denial breaking from him.

"That will do. You tried to kill me on the _King Edward_; you tried your
knife on me again down