"She can feed you if she likes," growled Julius.

"Julius?" queried the girl from the Castle, peering at the man. "Not
Julius Spantz, of the armoury?"

"The same," said Truxton. Julius laughed awkwardly and withdrew. "Son of
our distinguished host here. Permit me to present Herr William--"

"Enough," snarled William Spantz, with a threatening movement toward
King. His manner changed completely, however, when he turned to address
the young lady. "I beg to inform you, madam, that your stay in this
unwholesome place is to be brief. Pray endure it for the remainder of
this day. To-night you will be removed to more pleasant quarters, that
a friend has prepared for you. I may say to you, however, that it will
he necessary to place a gag in your mouth before you depart. This is to
be a critical night in our affairs." He lifted an inspired gaze
heavenward. "Let me assure you, madam, that the two gentlemen who are to
conduct you to the Count's--to your new quarters, are considerate,
kindly men; you need feel no further alarm. I am requested to tell you
this, so that you may rest easy for the balance of the day. As for you,
my friend," turning to Truxton and smiling ironically, "I deeply deplore
the fact that you are to remain. You may be lonesome in the dead hours,
for, as you may imagine, we, your dearest friends, will be off about a
certain business that is known to you, if I mistake not in believing
that you have listened at the door these many nights. When we next
gather in the room beyond, a new dispensation will have begun. You may
be interested then to hear what we have to say--out there."

Truxton was silent for a moment, a sudden, swift thought flooding his
brain. Controlling the quiver of anticipation in his voice, he took
occasion to say:

"I only hope you'll not forget to come back. I should be lonesome,
Spantz."

"Oh, we'll not forget you."

"I suppose not. By the way, would you mind telling me what has become of
your niece?"

Spantz glared at him. "She does not meet with us now. My niece is
consecrating her every thought to the task that lies before her. You
will not see her again."

"It's an infernal shame, that's what it is," exclaimed King, "to put it
all upon that poor girl! God, I'd give ten years of my life to lead her
out of this devil's mess. She's too good for--for that. It's--"

"She will be out of it, as you say, to-morrow, my excellent Samaritan.
She knows." There could be no mistake as to t