“I see it.” The alchemist glanced at it; the instant’s relaxation proved fatal, however, for with the moment the under man’s right hand came clear and tore the alchemist’s grip from his throat. In the struggle that followed, the alchemist was no match for the lithe and wiry Cossack. They rolled back and forth across the floor, tight in each other’s arms, they broke table legs, they brought down crockery from the shelves, they crashed into walls—and through all this the Cossack little by little overcame the advantage which the other had held in the beginning. First he twisted his legs in such fashion that he caught Pan Kreutz’s body as if in a vise, a trick that he had learned in the old days in the Ukraine, then he snapped his hands free from the other’s grip and wound his arms in under his shoulders. Tighter and tighter he drew arms and legs until the alchemist’s bones began to send out cracking noises; then with a quick movement he had reversed their positions and it was he who was on top and the alchemist underneath. “Smash!” He had bumped the man’s head against the floor with all his force, a blow sufficient to stun a giant, and in an instant had tossed him against the wall. There the alchemist lay. Like a panther moving to attack, Peter seized the object which he had come to procure, and leaped for the door. He did not reach it unscathed. Pan Kreutz had also a last stratagem. It was fortunate for him that when the Cossack bumped his head against the floor, it was his mask that had borne the brunt of the blow—otherwise it is doubtful if he could ever have risen. But when the Cossack tossed him aside he lay there feigning unconsciousness, and as the other turned, he reached with a swiftness as quick as Peter’s into a pocket of his gown, where he had concealed a small package of explosive powder which might be ignited only by concussion. A wonder it was indeed that the powder had not exploded while they were wrestling on the floor. This Pan Kreutz poised in his right hand as Peter made for the door. In another second the man would be gone—the alchemist caught his balance and hurled the package with all his strength. It was a fair shot! It caught the Cossack with full force square on the back of the head and burst with a loud report.