The Frenchman's courage was not proof against such an attack, and he collapsed immediately. Rising from his chair, he tottered to the far corner and slowly began to divest himself of his clothing, till Owen hastened him with a glance which threatened further violence. A minute later the Colonel stood naked but for a thin under-garment. "What is in the smaller room beyond?" demanded Owen, for his eye had seen another door, wide open, and a space beyond. "But I will see for myself. Take that lamp. Now walk before me, and recollect that I will shoot you with pleasure." Following his prisoner, he entered the chamber beyond, to ascertain that it was merely a storeroom filled with maps and other documents, and entirely devoid of windows. "The very place for him," thought Owen. "I will have two strings to my bow on this occasion--the pass which he has signed, and the disguise which he has so kindly provided. Give me the lamp," he went on. "You will stay here while I arrange matters in the other room. I warn you that if you attempt to give an alarm I will enter and shoot you. You would have murdered me to-night in cold blood, and you must not mind if I feel disposed to kill you on the smallest pretext." He carried the lamp to the table, keeping his face to his prisoner, then he banged the door of the inner room and secured it with the key which was in the lock. Tucking the pistol into his belt, he then wrestled with a chest which stood in one corner, and by using all his strength moved it over against the door. That done, he wasted no further time on his prisoner, but rapidly donned his clothing. He was ready within a few minutes, and stood looking at himself in a fine glass of European manufacture set in a gilded frame of Mahratta workmanship. "A little short, and distinctly youngish," he said. "But the impersonation is fairly good, and with something over my mouth will do. I'll risk it." He was still examining his figure with some satisfaction when a step outside called his attention, and he sprang to the door and stepped into the passage. Some one was entering, and in a moment he recognised the sentry who had been stationed at the foot of the stairway leading to his prison. The man salaamed as Owen appeared, remaining with his head to the tips of his fingers, in abject humility. Owen swung round at once, so as to hide his face, while he appeared to be engaged in looking at something in the room. "What is it?" he demanded curtly, attempting to imitate the accent of his prisoner. "The jailer, my lord. I have searched for him--we have all searched every corner of the palace, and without success. There are groans coming from the cell where the prisoner is, and we fancy that he may be there."