The White Knight knew how true were the words of his lieutenant. In speaking aloud to Arnold he had been arguing with himself. If he went to Budapest Gonnard would escape his clutches, perhaps never to fall into them again, and then what of his word to Elizabeth? He had sworn that Gonnard should die--Gonnard, the murderer of Elizabeth's cousin. On the other hand, there was Apor. Had not Apor risked his life, time after time, to get him news of the movements of the Communists, information which was of the utmost importance to the White Knight in his rescue of the unfortunate victims of Bolshevik persecution? Had not Apor, descendant of generations of warring aristocrats, demeaned himself, humbled his pride, to serve in the enemy ranks that he might more usefully aid the White Knight? Was all that service to count for naught? Wenzel sighed. "You are right, Arnold. Gonnard must wait. We will catch the next train to Budapest." They turned toward the station, and as they approached Wenzel looked behind him, smiling grimly: "What an unpleasant day Gonnard will spend to-morrow waiting for the blow to fall!" * * * * * * Gonnard knew Budapest as he knew the lines of his face. There was not a criminal resort with which he had not been acquainted in the old days of law and order, while the number of more or less habitable quarters where he might lie securely hidden from the prying eyes of the detectives, and to which he had the _entrée_, was well into double figures. To one of these he drove the helpless Elizabeth. As he brought the car to a halt he gave a quick glance up and down the narrow road, but fortunately no one was about, so with a deft movement, which was hard to associate with one of his clumsy build, he picked her up in his arms, and with scarcely any effort carried his burden within, up the four flights of stairs to the whitewashed attic, and there carefully locked the door behind him. Once safely there, apparently unnoticed, he plucked the gag from her mouth. "Well, well," he mocked, "here you are, little chicken, and here you will remain until I have finished with you." Like all cowards he was a bully at heart, and he spoke with blustering braggadocio. She gazed at him unflinchingly. "What do you want of me?" she asked calmly. The question set him roaring with laughter. "Ho, ho! Innocent one! So you do not know for what I have brought you here to my little love-nest? Ho, ho! Think it well over, my sweet, and see if you cannot find out before I return." Suddenly his attitude became menacing. "Sit down!" he ordered. Elizabeth laughed slightly. "You are a fool," she said easily. "Do you think you can hold me here against my will? I have only to raise my voice and I do not doubt that I should have half a dozen people flocking to my aid--in addition to the police."