Burton rang the bell--a single sharp ring. In a few moments Pierre appeared. The expression of foreboding dread in his eyes gave way to consternation, joy, eagerness, in turn. "Some stout cord, Pierre," said Burton, "and shut the door behind you. My revolver may go off, and it would be a pity to disturb your master’s guests." The irony was lost upon Major Schwikkard. The turning of the tables seemed to have completely unnerved him. It is, perhaps, not true that all bullies are cowards at heart; but a man is tested by adversity. Pierre soon returned with the cord, and in a few minutes he trussed the German securely, Burton standing over him with a revolver. "Now a gag!" Burton said. "Take one of those strips of linen; monsieur le capitaine will spare us one of his bandages." At this the German found voice at last. "You--you treacherous----" "Not so loud, monsieur l’espion!" said Burton, fingering the revolver. The German gurgled. "You will--all be--shot," he gasped, "as soon as they discover----" "Allons!" exclaimed Pierre, thrusting the gag firmly between his jaws, "it is done, monsieur." "There is an unoccupied room, Pierre?" asked Burton. "Assuredly, monsieur, at the end of the passage." "Then we will take him there, and tie him down on the bed. His friends will no doubt miss him in the morning, and release him--perhaps about breakfast time!" Such was Burton’s contempt for the man that he felt no touch of compunction at the effect his words produced. Pierre and he were carrying the German between them. His staring eyes proclaimed an agony of terror. At dawn the wing was to be fired. He had carefully provided against premature discovery. His friends would be still sleeping off their liquor. He saw himself lost. He writhed, his lips worked, but the inexorable gag prevented articulation. The two carried him into the farther room, laid him face upwards on the bed, and bound him firmly to the four posts. The moonlight, streaming through the window, threw a ghastly pallor upon his countenance. His eyes pled for mercy, and Burton, after a few moments’ hesitation, relented. If the terror-stricken wretch would show any spark of good feeling, he would relieve his fears. He loosed the gag. Schwikkard gulped, moistened his lips, and spoke gaspingly. "You have me in your power ... but your revenge will recoil on you.... Release me; I will leave the château at once.... I will agree to any terms.... You shall go unharmed." "You would bribe me?" answered Burton, coldly, disgusted that the man had said no word of regret. "You have given us no reason to believe that your word is more to be trusted than any other German’s. We are not going to kill you, in spite of your threats to a helpless gentleman and your treatment of Madame. Your threats, perhaps, were not meant in earnest----" "No, no," cried the German eagerly. "It was only--only a joke." "Ah! such a joke is in very bad taste, so we will leave you to think it over."