bed, just as the Captain had found him. The poor
fellow, overwhelmed by the enormity of his mistake, begged Dangloss to
shoot him at once. But Dangloss had him conveyed to the hospital ward
and tenderly cared for.

Three guards in one of the offices saw a man whom they supposed to be
Ogbot pass from the prison shortly after twelve, and the mortified Chief
admitted that some one had gone through his private apartment. As the
prisoner had taken Ogbot's keys he experienced little difficulty in
getting outside the gates. But, vowed Dangloss stormily, he should be
recaptured if it required the efforts of all the policemen in Edelweiss.
With this very brave declaration in mind he despatched men to search
every street and every alley, every cellar and every attic in the city.
Messengers were sent to all towns in the district; armed posses scoured
the valley and the surrounding forests, explored the caves and brush
heaps for miles around. The chagrin of the grim old Captain, who had
never lost a prisoner, was pitiful to behold.

The forenoon was half over before Harry Anguish heard of his friend's
escape. To say that he was paralyzed would be putting it much
too mildly. There is no language that can adequately describe his
sensations. Forgetting his bodyguard, he tore down the street toward the
prison, wild with anxiety and doubt. He met Baron Dangloss, tired and
worn, near the gate, but the old officer could tell him nothing except
what he had learned from Ogbot. Of one thing there could be no doubt:
Lorry was gone. Not knowing where to turn nor what to do, Anguish raced
off to the castle, his bodyguard having located him in the meantime. He
was more in need of their protection than ever. At the castle gates he
encountered a party of raving Axphainians, crazed with anger over the
flight of the man whose life they had thirsted for so ravenously. Had
he been unprotected, Anguish would have fared badly at their hands, for
they were outspoken in their assertions that he had aided Lorry in the
escape. One fiery little fellow cast a glove in the American's face
and expected a challenge. Anguish snapped his fingers and sarcastically
invited the insulter to meet him next winter in a battle with snowballs,
upon which the aggressor blasphemed in three languages and three hundred
gestures. Anguish and his men passed inside the gates, which had been
barred to the others, and struck out rapidly for the castle doors.

The Princess Yetive