“Them? Who?” Tad shook him. “M-master, you hurt--” “Do I? Where are they? Where is Arturo?” “I don’t know.” He took the cuff of Tad’s hand on his face, cringing, but he mumbled, “I cannot tell--I know nothing--” It was possible he did not, but Tad wasn’t taking any chances. “M-master! Oh, master--you hurt--” “Stop your screaming! If you wake any one up I’ll kill you! Talk!” It was exasperating. “M-master--my wrist--it will break--” Tad eased his twisting. “Will you talk?” “N-no--oh, master!” It brought Tad a sense of physical nausea, the fellow was so helpless, fragile--his wrist would crack. But Tad gritted his teeth and twisted. “Tell me, damn you!” “Master! Stop--” He screamed, “I’ll tell you! Oh--stop!” Tad relaxed. And Bhool told; with a burst, half incoherent he told it all. “But if she knows. Master, if she knows, she will kill me!” “I don’t care what she does to you.” Tad straightened, triumphant. That cell in which we were imprisoned--he could locate it. He had lived in the Castle, and knew its interior well. “Stand up, you!” He jerked Bhool to his feet, dragged him out, then woke up Fen and Nereid, and told them. “Here, you take him.” Fen was still confused. “But, Tad--tell me more of this. What did he--” Tad told them it all. “Cursed traitor! By the code, he’s done enough damage.” They barred him in a small windowless room. Tad explained his purpose. “Will you try it, Nereid?” “Oh--” She was speechless with her eagerness. They left Fen to guard Bhool. “We can do it in an hour,” said Tad. “We’ll be back, with Jeff and Arturo!” They went to Tad’s room. Both of them trembling with the haste and excitement of it, they got out the equipment they had brought from the fire caldron. Within ten minutes they slipped like shadows from the house. CHAPTER XVII. PROWLING SHADOWS. Tad and Nereid had found the apparatus easy to adjust. They tested it before they left Tad’s room; it seemed to work perfectly. It consisted of a long robe of fabric, light as gossamer, dull, dead black. There were four of these robes. Nereid took the smallest. It enveloped her from head to foot; it swept the ground; its sleeves ended in black gloves; its hood covered her head. There was a mask-like flap for her face; small, transparent black panes for eyes; a clip against her nostrils to hold a breathing valve in place. “All right, Nereid?” “Yes.”