A whole new scheme was taking shape in his mind, similar in some respects to his first plan of campaign and likely, he thought, to lead to a successful issue. He made certain that the approaches to the villa on either side were deserted and that none of the soldiers on guard had moved away from the front-door. Then, when Bernard was back, he placed the ladder in position and leant it against the wall. They went up. The open window belonged, as they expected, to the dressing-room and the light from the bedroom showed through the open door. Not a sound came from that other room except a loud snoring. Paul put his head through the doorway. Prince Conrad was lying fast asleep across his bed, like a loose-jointed doll, clad in his uniform, the front of which was covered with stains. He was sleeping so soundly that Paul was able to examine the room at his ease. There was a sort of little lobby between it and the passage, with a door at either end. He locked and bolted both doors, so that they were now alone with Prince Conrad, while it was impossible for them to be heard from the outside. "Come on," said Paul, when they had apportioned the work to be done. And he placed a twisted towel over the prince's face and tried to insert the ends into his mouth while Bernard bound his wrists and ankles with some more towels. All this was done in silence. The prince offered no resistance and uttered not a cry. He had opened his eyes and lay staring at his aggressors with the air of a man who does not understand what is happening to him, but is seized with increasing dread as he becomes aware of his danger. "Not much pluck about William's son and heir," chuckled Bernard. "Lord, what a funk he's in! Hi, young-fellow-my-lad, pull yourself together! Where's your smelling-bottle?" Paul had at last succeeded in cramming half the towel into his mouth. He lifted him up and said: "Now let's be off." "What do you propose to do?" "Take him away." "Where to?" "To France." "To France?" "Well, of course. We've got him; he'll have to help us." "They won't let him through." "And the tunnel?" "Out of the question. They're keeping too close a watch now." "We shall see." He took his revolver and pointed it at Prince Conrad: "Listen to me," he said. "Your head is too muddled, I dare say, to take in any questions. But a revolver is easy to understand, isn't it? It talks a very plain language, even to a man who is drunk and shaking all over with fright. Well, if you don't come with me quietly, if you attempt to struggle or to make a noise, if my friend and I are in danger for a single moment, you're done for. You can feel the barrel of my revolver on your temple: Well, it's there to blow out your brains. Do you agree to my conditions?" The prince nodded his head. "Good," said Paul. "Bernard, undo his legs, but fasten his arms along his body. . . . That's it. . . . And now let's be off."