This time there was a good deal of whispering, a kind of debate conducted with great earnestness. “I’ll play Hop Scotch, if you like,” said Mr. Sanders; “but Dick won’t.” “Never mind about Mr. Dick,” said the doctor. “He’ll join in when he sees how pleasant it is. You can play Hop Scotch, I suppose, Patsy?” “I cannot,” said Patsy. “I never heard tell of it.” “I can’t either,” said the doctor. “But it’ll be all right: Mr. Sanders will teach us.” “I shall want a piece of chalk,” said Mr. Sanders. “There’s no chalk here,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Will nothing else do you? What’s the chalk for?” “I have to mark out a figure on the boards,” said Mr. Sanders. “I’ve a small bottle of Condy’s Fluid in my bag,” said the doctor, “that I carry about with me for disinfecting my hands. You could manage with it, I dare say.” “You can stain the floor with Condy’s Fluid,” said Mr. Dick, who was really a sociable man, and was beginning to be interested in the proceedings. “When we were first married and went into our new house, my wife----” “Now, don’t start talking about your wife,” said Dr. O’Grady, “just as you’re beginning to cheer up. You’ll upset yourself again.” Mr. Sanders went down on his hands and knees. He made a little pool of Condy’s Fluid on the floor and drew lines from it with his forefinger. The rest of the party watched with great interest. Suddenly he stopped and knelt bolt upright. “What’s that noise?” he said. “I didn’t hear any noise,” said Dr. O’Grady. “There wasn’t any noise. Go on Hop Scotching.” “There was a noise. I heard it. A noise like a fall. I have very sharp hearing.” “That always goes with a weak heart,” said Dr. O’Grady. “But----” He stopped abruptly. This time there was an unmistakable noise, a shout uttered somewhere in the lower part of the house, which reached even the remote room where the captives were. They drew together and waited, breathless. Mr. Sanders grew very white. “They’re fighting downstairs,” he said. “Perhaps the police have come,” said Mr. Dick. “Perhaps we shall be rescued. I knew that my wife would do everything to find me. I knew she would find me.” “You didn’t seem to think so yesterday,” said Dr. O’Grady. “And I wouldn’t make too sure now, if I were you. If they are fighting downstairs, and I can’t hear plainly enough to be certain----” “I can,” said Mr. Sanders. “I expect,” said Dr. O’Grady, “that the Emperor will get the best of it. He’ll probably be in on us here in a minute or two as proud as Punch at having bagged another chance traveller. If the Emperor has a fault at all, it’s his extraordinary fondness for kidnapping people. I can’t think why he does it.” “They’re coming upstairs,” said Mr. Sanders. “I hear them distinctly.” “They are,” said Dr. O’Grady; “a whole lot of people. I wonder who he has got this time.”