Turning into the dining-room he gasped and started back. Tom dropped his cigarette into the ash-tray, laid his hand near the butt of the revolver on the table, and, smiling grimly, said-- "No. I’m not a ghost, Herr Reinecke--nor a skeleton." Reinecke, standing in the doorway, had quickly recovered himself. "So!" he laughed. "But it is clear: you are a fool." "I _was_ a fool--to trust you," said Tom, standing up. "You _are_ a fool--to come back here," said Reinecke, with another laugh. He advanced a step into the room and laid his helmet on a chair. "That’s as may be. You will consider yourself my prisoner, Herr Reinecke." The German stared, then with a derisive guffaw, cried-- "Your prisoner? Are you a madman as well as a fool? Ha! ha!--your prisoner! We are at war: yes, you realise it. But _your_ prisoner! Why, you foolish child, don’t you realise that you are _my_ prisoner?--that I can have you shot as a spy?--that that is exactly what I shall do?" "We seem to be talking at cross purposes." Tom grasped his revolver, and with a quick movement pointed it at the German’s head. "Not a word," he added swiftly, as Reinecke, after a moment’s paralysing astonishment, was turning towards the door, and at the same time fumbling for the revolver slung across his shoulder. "Understand: if you call out, or make a single suspicious movement--drop your hands, sir--I shall fire, and if I fire it will be a signal to my men who are waiting to settle accounts with your askaris. Take off your pistol strap: lay it on the table: your left hand, please: be careful not to touch the button." Reinecke, taken all aback--what did the Englishman mean by "my men"?--removed his strap and laid it on the corner of the table Tom pointed to. "Now your sword-belt." The German obeyed. A servant came through the inner door carrying dishes. "Not yet," said Tom: "we are not quite ready." The servant smiled, started as he saw the revolver in Tom’s hand, then backed hurriedly. "Remain in the kitchen till I call," added Tom. "Now, Herr Reinecke, you will precede me--I am not bluffing--to the place where my men are hidden. I don’t wish to kill your askaris, but any madness on your part will provoke a volley from my men. It will avoid trouble, then, if you order yours to pile arms. Remember this revolver. If you make a mistake in the word of command it will be fatal to you as to them. Lead on." The German turned without a word. Outside, the askaris were standing at ease: Yakoub, the native clerk, had just finished checking off the porter’s loads. Reinecke ordered the askaris, in a voice unlike his own, to pile arms and reassemble two deep. At Tom’s bidding he told Yakoub to go to his hut and remain there. A call from Tom brought Mwesa bounding from behind a shrub. "Get the men to collect these arms," said Tom.