There was, apparently, no one about; Wenzel wondered if it were too much to hope that all the Bolsheviks were congregated together. If so, and if he could but find where Imre and his daughter were, to escape would be a matter of extreme simplicity. There was no object in moving secretively; he shuffled along the passage until he was level with the lighted room. With a quick sideward glance he looked within, but it was empty. He moved on, and the passage turned sharply to the left. Having turned the corner Wenzel found the darkness more accentuated, for there were no other lights to be seen, and the illumination from the lamp in the room he had just passed had no effect. Feeling his way along by the wall he penetrated further into the heart of the castle. He came to another corner, and as he turned he became conscious of approaching footsteps. The castle seemed all corners. The next moment a man walked suddenly into view from the left, carrying a candle in his hand. Wenzel darted back into the shelter of the passage from which he had just emerged, a plan of action already forming in his brain. The other man came nearer. Wenzel crouched for a spring. Then as the Communist turned into his passage Wenzel moved. With his left arm he grasped the man round the body in an unavoidable embrace, while he used his right hand to seize the man's throat, and gently squeeze the windpipe between thumb and first finger. The candle dropped and sizzled out; the comrade tried convulsively to free himself, but he was helpless. Wenzel increased the pressure of his arms and felt his victim sag limply. Then he released his hold on the man's throat, but quickly transferred his hand to the mouth, pressing it fiercely so that no sound could escape. "Quick, you dog," he said in a low voice, "tell me, where is Imre Kiss?" He released his hand from the man's mouth so that the other might speak. The man breathed hoarsely, his body panting as he pulled the air into his lungs with deep gulps. "Down in the cells," he croaked. "You know the way?" The Communist hesitated. Wenzel tightened the arm which encircled the man's waist till the unfortunate prisoner felt the air leaving his body again with a rush. "Yes, yes," he muttered hoarsely. "I have just come from there." "For what reason?" "Comrade Grocz sent me with this message: 'Tell the old man to say his prayers; it is nearly time for him to die.'" In his fury Wenzel unconsciously increased the pressure of his arm, and the Communist whimpered in agony. "Mercy, mercy," he gasped, "you are killing me!" Wenzel grunted, but eased up. The man might yet prove to be of use, otherwise... "Pick up that candle, light it, and lead me to Imre Kiss. If you fail, or if you raise the slightest alarm--the Devil has a special reception for such as you, my friend, so if you do not want to see him yet awhile----"