I stood up facing him, with my back to the table, striving to keep calm, for the situation was critical. The complete change in his appearance and manner towards me was sufficient warning. "The box is safe enough," I answered. "You can have it in an hour's time. But----" "But what?" he interrupted, savagely. "Why have you not brought it, as I bade you in my note? Why is it not here? We want it at once!" "You forget that there is a _quid pro quo_ which I expect from you. It seems to me, Count de Cartienne, that you are making a tool of me, and----" "What is it you want--to see this man Marx?" "Yes." "Well, he is not here." I checked the rejoinder which, had I spoken it, would probably have cost me my life. "Where is he, then?" I asked. "I will tell you when you have written for that box," he said, opening a drawer and placing pen and paper upon the table. I shook my head. "There is no need for me to write. It is of no use my remaining if Mr. Marx is not here. Send your servant back with me and I will give it him." "No, I shall hold you as a hostage for the box. Besides, I have a few words to say to you, boy," he added grimly. "Write." I hesitated, but only for a moment. "Do I understand that you detain me here against my will?" I said, slowly. "Understand anything you please, but write." I took up the pen without another word. When I had finished the note he took it from me and read it through. Then he glanced at the address and started. "Mr. Ravenor! Oh, Mr. Ravenor is in London, is he?" he remarked slowly. "Yes." He looked away with the ghost of an evil smile upon his lips. "Ravenor in London! How strange. He and I are old acquaintances. I must call on him," he added mockingly. He stood still for a moment and then left the room abruptly with the note in his hand. I tried to follow him, but the door closed too quickly. If I could have seen any means of escape I should have made use of them, for I had gained the knowledge which I had come to seek, and I knew that I was in danger. There was only that solitary window looking out upon the river and the closed door. If this man meant mischief, I was securely in his power. CHAPTER LIV. A RAID. In a few minutes Count de Cartienne returned: He flashed a sudden keen glance at me. "I wonder if you have any idea as to the contents of that box," he said, keeping his eyes fixed curiously upon me. Looking back now, I see clearly that I was guilty of the grossest folly in answering as I did. But I was young, impetuous, conscious of great physical strength, and with all that contempt of danger which such consciousness brings. So, without hesitation, I drew from my pocket the evening paper which I had bought in Northumberland Avenue, and laid my finger upon the column which I had shown my father. "This may have something to do with it," I remarked.