He jumped back with a snarl and fumbled at the pocket into which he had slipped the air revolver. Then his hands flew to his throat, and into his face came a terrible look of comprehension. I saw that he was struggling to speak, and stepped forward just as the other Russian straightened up with a glance of sudden suspicion and raised his heavy revolver. “Come and help me,” I said breathlessly, for Ivanovitch had begun to sag at the knees. “Something has happened to Ivanovitch!” The man came forward at that in a shambling run to look at his master, lowering the revolver as he ran. He came to my side, still trying to see the face of Ivanovitch. When he saw it he put out his hand to help me support him, and with a quick movement I pressed the top of the ring into the back of his hand too. He snatched it away, but he was slower of comprehension; for his hands went to his throat, and he stood swaying for a moment before he turned to me. I dropped Ivanovitch on the floor at that and caught at the big revolver. But there was little need. An instant longer the fellow swayed in my grasp, and then he, too, crumpled at the knees and fell, his face contorting into a mask of feat and agony. I turned back to Ivanovitch. The man lay where I had dropped him, his eyes glazing, but with the light of consciousness and comprehension still in them. As I watched I saw this light gradually fade out of them, and suddenly they rolled up under the lids and his quivering body lay still. I turned back to his servant. He, too, was still quivering, but as I looked, a last tremor went through him and he also lay still. I was alone. And in that moment I knew that the fates were with us and that we should succeed. But there was much to be done yet. Others might come at any moment and I had still to escape. I stooped over the body of Ivanovitch, found the air revolver and slipped it into my pocket. Then, leaving them where they lay, I walked to the door of the room, switched out the lights, opened the door and went out. I had walked out under the open sky! In the faint starlight I could make out the shadowy forms of trees and bushes all around me. A little way off loomed the bulk of a huge house. I turned away from it, leaving the path that connected it with the stone house in which I had been imprisoned, and struck off through the trees to find a way out. There was light enough to see faintly where I was walking and to make out the outlines of things close at hand. But I was afraid of detection by some guard who might be prowling about the place, and I stuck closely to the shadow of the trees wherever I could. And at last, keeping in a straight line, by looking over my shoulder at the bulk of the house as long as I could see it, I came to the thing I sought. It was a brick wall, at least ten feet high and perfectly smooth.