"Now you see the charm of the thing," she went on, as the inside of the iron doors revealed a number of ferocious spikes. "The poor wretch was put inside, and the doors were slowly shut on him. See, there is a spike for each eye, one for each breast, and several for the legs. The embrace of the Iron Maiden was not a thing to be lightly undertaken." "Of all the fiendish, hellish----" "It was made by one Otto the Hunchback," pursued the Princess, "and it was so admired in its day, that the reigning monarch of Bavaria had a duplicate made, and it stands in the castle of Nuremberg to this day." "When was this thing last used?" inquired Trafford in hoarse tones. "It is said that the late Archbishop of Weidenbruck was killed in this way, three years ago," replied the Princess calmly. Trafford was white with indignation. "Who says so?" he demanded fiercely. "Everybody. The King hated him, and he died of cancer--officially. I was told--and I honestly believe--that he was killed by torture, because when the troubles of 1904 were at an end, he openly incited the people to revolt." "If that's true," said Trafford, "I shan't make much bones about siding with you against Karl XXII. And it won't worry my conscience reporting to you anything I may accidentally overhear at the dinner to-night." "We can't fight in kid gloves," said the Princess with a sigh. A sudden noise in the street without attracted his attention. Light as a bird, the Princess leaped into the embrasure of the window. Trafford followed suit. A company of soldiers was drawn up outside the building, and facing them was a fair-sized mob jeering and cheering ironically. A number of units were detached under an officer to either side of the building, and it was plain that the Strafeburg was being surrounded by the military. A second later there was the dull sound of hoofs on snow, and a squadron of cavalry entered the platz from another direction. Lined up at right angles to the Strafeburg, carbine on knee, they held the threatening mob in hand with the silent menace of ball and gunpowder. Trafford and the Princess looked at each other in blank and silent amazement. "This means business," said the latter, pale but composed. "The Guides and the King's Dragoons are not being paraded for nothing. Royalty is going to be arrested with the pomp and circumstance due to the occasion." "They have discovered your presence here?" "Obviously. I am caught like a rat in a trap."