These words reduced Potts to despair. In the depths of that despair he found hope. He started up, defiant. With an oath he sprang to the bell-rope and pulled again and again, till the peals reverberated through the house. The stranger stood with a scornful smile on his face. Potts turned to him savagely: “I’ll teach you,” he cried, “that you’ve come to the wrong shop. I’m not a child. Who you are I don’t know and I don’t care. You are the cause of my ruin, and you’ll repent of it.” [Illustration: “THUG! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT IS?”] The stranger said nothing, but stood with the same fixed and scornful smile. A noise was heard outside, the tramp of a crowd of men. They ascended the stairs. At last John appeared at the door of the room, followed by thirty servants. Prominent among these was Asgeelo. Near him was Vijal. Potts gave a triumphant smile. The servants ranged themselves around the room. “Now,” cried Potts, “you’re in for it. You’re in a trap, I think. You’ll find that I’m not a born idiot. Give up that cord!” The stranger said nothing, but wound up the cord coolly, placed it in his pocket, and still regarded Potts with his scornful smile. “Here!” cried Potts, addressing the servants. “Catch that man, and tie his hands and feet.” The servants had taken their station around the room at John’s order. As Potts spoke they stood there looking at the stranger, but not one of them moved. Vijal only started forward. The stranger turned toward him and looked in his face. Vijal glanced around in surprise, waiting for the other servants. “You devils!” cried Potts, “do you hear what I say? Seize that man!” None of the servants moved. “It’s my belief,” said John, “that they’re all ratting.” “Vijal!” cried Potts, savagely, “tackle him.” Vijal rushed forward. At that instant Asgeelo bounded forward also with one tremendous leap, and seizing Vijal by the throat hurled him to the floor. The stranger waved his hand. “Let him go!” said he. Asgeelo obeyed. “What the devil’s the meaning of this?” cried John, looking around in dismay. Potts also looked around. There stood the servants--motionless, impassive. “For the last time,” roared Potts, with a perfect volley of oaths, “seize that man, or you’ll be sorry for it.” The servants stood motionless. The stranger remained in the same attitude with the same sneering smile. “You see,” said he, at last, “that you don’t know me, after all. You are in my power, Briggs--you can’t get away, nor can your son.” Potts rushed, with an oath, to the door. Half a dozen servants were standing there. As he came furiously toward them they held out their clenched fists. He rushed upon them. They beat him back. He fell, foaming at the lips. John stood, cool and unmoved, looking around the room, and learning from the face of each servant that they were all beyond his authority. He folded his arms, and said nothing.