Hammersley gasped for breath, but still struggled gamely, though he realized that he had played his last card. Things got dark, and dimly he saw the door of the room open and someone enter. Wentz, of course. His game was up. Senf was panting heavily. “He burnt the rope,” Hammersley heard him say. “Come and help me. He has a grip of iron.” The figure from the door moved quickly around the squirming figures, and Hammersley saw the reflection of the candle on something bright. A knife. He heard a blow, and the mass of struggling flesh above him suddenly collapsed and smothered him with its weight. With an effort he struggled free and rolled aside, looking up into the grim face of Lindberg. “Sh--” the man whispered. “I had to do it. There was no other way. I’ve been waiting outside.” Hammersley tried to speak, but his throat closed, and while he struggled for his breath, he saw Lindberg go to the door and stand, his ear to the keyhole, listening. In a moment he came back. “_Ganz gut!_ They have heard nothing.” “Are you sure?” Hammersley managed to gasp, as Lindberg cut the rope that bound his ankles. “Yes. He was so sure of himself that he did not shout.” He helped the prisoner to his feet and they clasped hands. “Good Lindberg! My friend! I had given up.” “I have waited until the beer was served. It is well. And now----” He looked around the room quickly. “You shall go.” Hammersley had a sudden thought. “Captain von Winden sent you?” “No. He knows nothing. But he has not spoken. It is now after nine o’clock. By half past nine you must go.” “_Ja doch!_ But you----!” “I shall remain.” “No, no; I will not consent to that.” “Yes, I have thought out a plan.” “But they will suspect. They will shoot you.” “No, they will not. Have I not told you that I have thought out a plan?” “I will listen to it.” Lindberg meanwhile had been unstrapping his pistol holster and put it on a chair. Hammersley glanced over his shoulder at the door. “But they may come again,” he whispered. “I think not. There is little time to lose. We will have to take the chance.” “But if they return and find me free it will only cause your death and do me no good.” “Herr Hammersley, you should know by this time that I do not waste words. Have I not told you that I have made a plan? Listen. This is my story for Herr Hauptmann Wentz. I happen to be in the hallway without, carrying a pitcher of water to the room of Miss Mather--the pitcher is outside on the table--when I hear the sounds of a commotion in this room. Fearing that the prisoner has by some miracle gotten free, I unlock the door with my pass-key and enter. You have burned your bonds and killed Senf. You spring on me and make me a prisoner----” He paused. “And you----” Hammersley broke in. “You will be left here? No, I won’t leave you--not to that fate. I will not go unless you go with me. We will contrive a way to get out of the country.”