"I am not to be intimidated by threats," replied Paston, with a scornful laugh. "You have employed your arts too long. Deliver up Auriol and this gentleman at once, or----" And he levelled the pistols at him. "Fire!" cried Rougemont, drawing himself up to his towering height. "No earthly bullets can injure me." "Ve'll try that!" cried Ginger, coming up at the moment behind Paston. And he discharged a pistol, with a deliberate aim, at the breast of Rougemont. The latter remained erect, and apparently uninjured. "You see how ineffectual your weapons are," said Rougemont, with a derisive laugh. "It must be the devil!" cried Ginger, running off. "I will try mine," said Paston. But before he could draw the triggers, the pistols were wrested from his grasp by the two attendants, who had quitted Thorneycroft, and stolen upon him unperceived, and who next pinioned his arms. CHAPTER IV THE PIT So bewildered was the poor iron-merchant by the strange and terrible events that had befallen him, that, though released by the two masked attendants, who left him, as before related, to seize Gerard Paston, he felt utterly incapable of exertion, and would probably have made no effort to regain his freedom, if his coat had not been vigorously plucked behind, while a low voice urged him to fly. Glancing in the direction of the friendly speaker, he could just discern a diminutive object standing within the entrance of a side-passage, and reared up against the wall so as to be out of sight of Rougemont and his attendants. It was the monkey--or rather Old Parr--who, continuing to tug violently at his coat, at last succeeded in drawing him backwards into the passage, and then grasping his hand tightly, hurried him along it. The passage was wholly unlighted, but Mr. Thorneycroft could perceive that it was exceedingly circuitous, and winded round like a maze. "Where are you taking me?" he inquired, attempting to stop. "Ask no questions," rejoined the dwarf, pulling him along. "Do you want to be captured, and shut up in a cell for the rest of your life?" "Certainly not," replied Thorneycroft, accelerating his movements; "I hope there's no chance of it." "There's every chance of it," rejoined Old Parr. "If you're taken, you'll share Auriol's fate." "O Lord! I hope not," groaned the iron-merchant. "I declare, you frighten me so much that you take away all power of movement. I shall drop in a minute." "Come along, I say," screamed the dwarf. "I hear them close behind us." And as he spoke, shouts, and the noise of rapidly-approaching footsteps, resounded along the passage. "I can't stir another step," gasped the iron-merchant. "I'm completely done. Better yield at once." "What, without a struggle?" cried the dwarf tauntingly. "Think of your daughter, and let the thought of her nerve your heart. She is lost for ever, if you don't get out of this accursed place." "She is lost for ever as it is," cried the iron-merchant despairingly.