"It was not of the least use, for I did not leave the place until two days later," he replied. "As a matter of fact, for more than forty-eight hours I lay concealed, wishing myself dead, between the roof and the ceiling of that quaint old summer-house on the little knoll at the further end of the lake. How they got me there I cannot say, but that I was there and was prevented from making my presence known, even though my friends searched the room below for me, is as true as I am talking to you now. Then, when the search must have lost some of its energy, I was brought down in the dead of the night, carried through the wood, and placed in a conveyance of some sort, which immediately drove away with me. Shortly before daybreak we arrived at a house standing a good distance back from the road. From what I could see of it, it was a ramshackle old place, but the man who owned it, or at any rate the individual who came out to meet us, seemed to be on familiar terms with my guards. He helped them to escort me into the house, and, if I am not mistaken, he himself locked the door of the small room in which I was to be confined for the next twenty hours. At the end of that time, still powerless to help myself, I was once more brought downstairs and placed in the cart. Again we drove off, and, for six hours, I suffered every imaginable torture. My hands and feet were tightly bound, and my mouth was secured so that I could not utter a cry for help. The cords used lacerated my wrists and ankles, while my head ached from the violence of the blow it had received on the night of my abduction. At last the cart stopped, and one of the men sprang out. A voice asked a question in Italian, then there was the sound of some one moving away, after which not a word was spoken for upwards of half-an-hour. At the end of that time the man who had absented himself returned and said in English, "It is all right." An interval of whispering followed, and then I was lifted out and placed upon the ground. "'Not a word as you value your life,' said a voice, which I recognised as belonging to Count Reiffenburg. 'If you speak, you're a dead man.'