Quietly Gordon drew in his head speculating rapidly on the possibility of wrenching that revolver out of its owner’s hand. He could do it from where he sat, but would it be wise? They were probably locked in a trap, and the driver was very likely armed also. What chance would he have to save Celia if he brought on a desperate fight at this point? If he were alone he might knock that revolver out of the man’s hand and spring from the window, taking his chance of getting away, but now he had Celia to think of and the case was different. Not for a universe of governments could he leave a woman in such desperate straits. She must be considered first even ahead of the message. This was life and death. He wondered at his own coolness as he sat back in the carriage and quietly lifted the glass frame back into place. Then he laid a steady hand on Celia’s again and stooping close whispered into her ear: “I am afraid there’s something wrong with our driver. Can you be a little brave,--dear?” He did not know he had used the last word this time, but it thrilled into the girl’s heart with a sudden accession of trust. “Oh, yes,” she breathed close to his face. “You don’t think he has been drinking, do you?” “Well, perhaps,” said Gordon relieved at the explanation. “But keep calm. I think we can get out of this all right. Suppose you change seats with me and let me try if that door will open easily. We might want to get out in a hurry in case he slows up somewhere pretty soon.” Celia quietly and swiftly slipped into Gordon’s seat and he applied himself with all his strength and ingenuity gently manipulating the latch and pressing his shoulder against the door, until at last to his joy it gave way reluctantly and he found that it would swing open. He had worked carefully, else the sudden giving of the latch would have thrown him out of the carriage and given instant alarm to his driver. He was so thoroughly convinced by this time that he was being kidnapped, perhaps to be murdered, that every sense was on the alert. It was his characteristic to be exceedingly cool during a crisis. It was the quality that the keen-eyed chief had valued most in him, and the final reason why he had been selected for this difficult task in place of an older and more experienced man who at times lost his head.