"Well, I don't, and I don't believe you do either. You told me yourself that the detective Gunzi came to you with a story which he had heard from the lips of the man who, by Gunzi's description of him, was undoubtedly the White Knight himself. Gunzi was meant to hear that story. The whole thing was carefully planned and executed." "What of it?" Bela Kun frowned. He might be the Dictator, but in the Soviet they were all "comrades," and though it hurt him to acknowledge equality with the others he could do nothing but suffer it. "Nothing. I only want to point out that Apor's escape was not my fault. You fell into the trap and you alone are to blame. You are Dictator, so must take the responsibility." Klein's attitude was smoothly peaceful. It might have developed into a stormy scene, but Szamuelly whispered into the Dictator's ear, and after swallowing a lump in his throat Bela Kun accepted the situation with a shrug of the shoulders. "Very well, I will take the blame. What matter the escape of the sprat now that we have caught the whale?" "Hear, hear!" agreed Bohm. "Yes, and let us settle the question as to what to do with the prisoner." There was a chorus of confirmative growls, and several of them would have spoken at once, but suddenly Szamuelly held up his hand. "Let me say a few words, comrades," he said. "Now that we have at last the White Knight in our hands, why should we not have the full benefit of our triumph? I have a fancy to see this man, to see him shiver with fear, perhaps to make him howl with pain. What do you all say?" There was not much doubt as to the opinion of the rest of the Council. Only Agoston raised a protesting voice: "One minute, comrades! Where do you intend to see the White Knight?" "Why, have him brought here, of course!" "And is that safe?" Korvin-Klein chuckled. "As I have said once before, Comrade Agoston, I am willing to take sole responsibility for his safety. Leave that to me, and if by a miracle he should escape--hang me instead." Agoston subsided, and the motion was passed unanimously. Korvin-Klein left the meeting to transport the hapless prisoner from one side of the river to the other. There was ample evidence that Klein valued his own neck. With all the precautions he took it would have been not only suicidal for would-be rescuers, but in addition any such plan would have signed the White Knight's death-warrant. Not even daring to use the bridge, Klein commandeered a ferry-tug. Cleared of all but the crew, it was firstly occupied by a guard of twelve Terrorists. These Terrorists, each with a cocked revolver in his hand, took up positions round the deck. Then was ushered on board the prisoner, his wrists handcuffed, and, as an added precaution, not only were his arms bound, but he was attached by a long chain to Klein himself.