He gave a shudder. The trap-door, which had closed again and on the flap of which they were bearing down with all their weight, the trap-door seemed to move beneath them. He felt the efforts that were being made to raise it; and the baron must have felt them too, for he desperately tried to shift the ground of the contest so that the trap-door might open. "It's 'the other one'!" thought Sernine, with the sort of unreasoning terror which that mysterious being caused him. "It's the other one. . . . If he gets through, I'm done for." By dint of imperceptible movements, Altenheim had succeeded in shifting his own position; and he tried to drag his adversary after him. But Sernine clung with his legs to the baron's legs and, at the same time, very gradually, tried to release one of his hands. Above their heads great blows resounded, like the blows of a battering-ram. . . . "I have five minutes," thought Sernine. "In one minute this fellow will have to . . ." Then, speaking aloud, "Look out, old chap. Stand tight!" He brought his two knees together with incredible force. The baron yelled, with a twisted thigh. Then Sernine, taking advantage of his adversary's pain, made an effort, freed his right arm and seized him by the throat: "That's capital! . . . We shall be more comfortable like this. . . . No, it's not worth while getting out your knife. . . . If you do, I'll wring your neck like a chicken's. You see, I'm polite and considerate. . . . I'm not pressing too hard . . . just enough to keep you from even wanting to kick about." While speaking he took from his pocket a very thin cord and, with one hand, with extreme skill, fastened his wrists. For that matter, the baron, now at his last gasp, offered not the least resistance. With a few accurate movements, Sernine tied him up firmly: "How well you're behaving! What a good thing! I should hardly know you. Here, in case you were thinking of escaping, I have a roll of wire that will finish off my little work. . . . The wrists first. . . . Now the ankles. . . . That's it! . . . By Jove, how nice you look!" The baron had gradually come to himself again. He spluttered: "If you give me up, Geneviève will die." "Really? . . . And how? . . . Explain yourself." "She is locked up. No one knows where she is. If I'm put away, she will die of starvation." Sernine shuddered. He retorted: "Yes, but you will speak." "Never!"