That night, Newhouse sat by his detector, waiting for it to give the telltale blink that would come when di Vino fired the sleep gun. When it did come, Newhouse already had his harness on, and he was out the window before the glow had died in the telltale. He scuttled crabwise across the great stone wall of the citadel, but this time he knew exactly where he was going, and he made it in less than ten minutes. Di Vino was waiting in the darkened window. "Thank heaven!" he whispered. "I thought you'd never get here. Now what." "Where is she?" Newhouse asked. "Over on the bed." "Good. Now put a blanket or something over that window so that the guard can't see a light." When the window was blacked out and a candle had been lit, Newhouse bent over the unconscious female. The sleep gun had done its work well. "All right, di Vino, help me get this harness on her. We're kidnapping the Shannil." "Kidnap the--" Di Vino choked and blinked. "But _I'm_ the one who's supposed to get out of here." "I'll explain the whole thing when she's gone. Come on! We haven't much time!" When the Shannil was securely fixed in the harness, Newhouse turned up the power until her weight was a minus twenty pounds. Then he fastened a length of strong plaston cording to the harness. Then he calmly tossed her out the window. She fell upwards fairly rapidly. When the cord was taut, Newhouse tied the end of it around the arm of a heavy silverwood chair. "That's that," he said. "Now all we have to do is wait." Boccaccio di Vino said: "Wait? For _what_? What's going on?" "Your lady-love is about two hundred feet over the citadel, with a signalling gadget on her. There's been an aircar hovering on its antigravs up there for the last two hours. When they pick up the signal, they'll pick up the girl. Simple, isn't it?" "But what are they going to do?" Newhouse grinned. "I think I'll let you suffer a while longer. Teach you to keep away from strange females." "I've already learned that," di Vino said morosely. "Then this ought to drive it home, pal. Just sit down and relax; we've got several hours to kill. Got a drink?" "Some Scotch," said di Vino in a glum tone. "And a deck of cards, if we have to kill time. Play cribbage?" "Yup. Drag 'em out." The cord moved a little, and Newhouse knew they were taking the Shannil out of the harness, which would be left there until they came back. "That's that for a while," he said. "Get the bottle out." * * * * *