A little more and he would be finished, his strength exhausted. Despairingly he thrust again--the rusted iron lock moved, bent beneath the strain, and then burst; the door swung in, and Wenzel, lurching forward with it, tumbled to the floor, while the Communist felt his knees weaken at the joints, wondering whether it were the Devil himself he watched. For twenty seconds no one moved, then Wenzel rose to his feet and turned to Imre Kiss: "Come, there is no time to waste." Heavily the old man followed Wenzel out, his legs scarcely bearing him. Not yet did Imre realize that he was being rescued. "I am ready," he whispered. In the meantime Wenzel stood before the trembling Communist, his lips twisted in an ugly grin. "The candle," he ordered, and hypnotized by the fierce eyes the agitator from Budapest passed the guttering tallow over. There was no mercy in Wenzel's soul then. Somehow he must dispose of the Communist, otherwise there would soon be a warning shout. He could not lock him up. His arm leaped upward as he clenched his fist. There was a dull thud as it came into contact with the man's chin. The Communist's head jerked back, and he slithered to the ground. There would be no fear of disturbance from him. Imre felt sick. "Why did you do that?" he murmured. "It was the only way," Wenzel replied harshly. "Otherwise he might have raised an alarm." "An alarm!" Imre's trembling fingers waveringly flew to his mouth, and slowly his eyes brightened in hope. "You--you are here to rescue me?" "You and your daughter, Elizabeth." Imre tried to speak, his lips quivered; but his brain was overwhelmed by a rushing flood of relief, and the words refused to come. He could only stare at Wenzel; yet all his unspoken gratitude was in that look, in the curving smile, in the fading lines, and in the eyes which streamed with tears of joy and happiness. "Come, we must not stop here." Wenzel's voice was gentle; more so than it had been for many months. "First you must show me the way to the roof." "The roof? ... But ... but ... why?" Wenzel's face hardened. "Question me not, but lead." And Imre Kiss, who, because of the way in which his rescuer had wrapped his face, could see nothing but his eyes, led the way without another word. There was an incident on the way up to the roof. They heard approaching voices: Imre turned round helplessly to the White Knight. Wenzel picked the other man up and flung him across his shoulders like a sack of flour. Two Communists staggered into them. "Ho, ho!" leered one. "Our friend carries a man to his room. Why is it a man you choose to take to your room, comrade?" and he dug Wenzel in the ribs. "What is the matter with him?" "He is fuller with wine than a barrel." "Oh, ho! Have they found some more?" "It flows like the Danube in the hall. I am just going down to have my fill." The two Communists exchanged glances. "It will be a big one," said one, "we had better get there first."