face distorted by a hideous, almost demoniacal laugh
of triumph, stood old Van Nierop, watching me as I recovered
consciousness. At his side, grinning in triumph, was my master, the
Baron.

I tried to ask the meaning of it all, but was unable.

"See, see!" cried the old Dutchman, pointing with his bony finger to the
dirty table near me, whereon a candle-end was burning straight before my
eyes beside a good-sized book--a leather-bound ledger it appeared to be.
"Do you know what I intend doing? Well, I'm going to treat you as all
English spies should be treated. That candle will burn low in five
minutes and sever the string you see which joins the wick. Look what
that innocent-looking book contains!" and with a peal of discordant
laughter he lifted the cover, showing, to my horror, that it was a box,
wherein reposed a small glass tube filled with some yellow liquid, a
trigger held back by the string, and some square packets wrapped in
oiled paper.

"You see what this is!" he said slowly and distinctly. "The moment the
string is burned through, the hammer will fall, and this house will be
blown to atoms. That book contains the most powerful explosive known to
science."

I could not demand an explanation, for though I struggled, I could not
speak.

I watched the old man fingering with fiendish delight the terrible
machine he had devised for my destruction.

"You and your friend Raymond thought to trap us!" said the Baron. "But,
you see, he who laughs last laughs best. Adieu, and I wish you a
pleasant trip, my young friend, into the next world," and both went out,
closing the door after them.

All was silence. I sat there helpless, pinioned, staring at the burning
candle and awaiting the most awful death that can await a man.

Ah, those moments! How can I ever adequately describe them? Suffice it
to say that my hair was dark on that morning, but in those terrible
moments of mental agony, of fear and horror, it became streaked with
grey.

Lower and still lower burned the flame, steadily, imperceptibly, yet,
alas! too sure. Each second brought me nearer the grave.

I was face to face with death.

Frantically and fiercely I fought to wrench myself free--fought until a
great exhaustion fell upon me.

Then, as the candle had burned until the flame was actually touching
that thin string which held me between life and death, I fainted.

A blinding flash, a terrific explosion that deafened me, and a feeling
of sudd