"It's my turn now," I muttered. "Hands above your head--up, man, up--higher--higher!" He saw the muzzle pointing at his breast and sullenly obeyed. I made him walk backwards to the chair that formerly had prisoned me and sit in it. And then, the steel pressed to his ear to keep him still, I managed, with one hand, to pass a strap around his throat and buckle it. Afterwards I similarly bound his wrists and ankles. When all was done I was so sore spent, so hideously full of weary pain, that I lay upon the floor and sank immediately into a troubled sleep. Belleville woke me with his struggles to get free. Somehow or other he had pryed himself on tiptoe backward, and the heavy chair, overbalancing, had dragged him over in its fall. That I had not heard, but the weight of iron and his own body was all curiously pressed upon one forearm, and the pain of it set him groaning like a wounded bull. The strangest thing of all was that this arm was free. Somehow or other he had writhed it loose. After I had tied it up again I sat down to think what I should do. I was not, however, in the mood to sit in judgment on him then, for although much stronger from my sleep, the exertion hurt, and every pang I suffered was too powerful an advocate of vengeance to let me try the rascal soberly. I needed food and drink. Not finding any in the room, I tried the door and after some short search, made out its fastening--a simple but clever slip of prodigious strength. I found the key to it in Belleville's pocket. He was madly anxious to be made acquainted with his fate, but I turned a deaf ear to all his questions, and slipping out of the room, I slammed the door on his solicitations. I found myself in a long, blind passage, lighted with a single jet, with another padded door set in its farthest end. This opened to the same key as the first. It gave me egress on a second passage, which led by three right angles to a big velvet-draped arch and a bifurcated maze of broad-balconied corridors. Here I saw the natural light of day for the first time in more than a week. Ah! how I revelled in it. I stopped before an open window and peered forth on a walled courtyard and the blank, tall wall of a neighbouring mansion beyond. Street sounds percolated to my ears. It was like coming back to life from the grave. Drawing back from the window, after some deep, delicious moments, I looked to find my body and my hands and feet. But I could not see aught but vague, delusive shadows, though the sunbeams glistened on me. The phenomenon filled me with a new sense of marvel and uncertainty. I had to pinch myself to make sure I was not a disembodied phantom--such stuff as dreams are made of. Yet I was real enough to touch, thank Heaven. Reassured, I made for the nearest door and softly tried it. Within was a man's bedroom--Belleville's, perhaps. It was untenanted. The next apartment was a sitting-room. It was also untenanted, but it contained a table, cover-spread for two.