He now began to feel indignant, and determined to resort to extreme measures. So going to the door, he rapped upon it with his stick several times, each time waiting for an answer. But no answer came. Then he beat incessantly against the door, keeping up a long, rolling, rattling volley of knocks without stopping, and making noise enough to rouse the whole house, even if every body in the house should happen to be in the deepest of slumbers. Yet even now for some time there was no response; and Obed at length was beginning to think of his first purpose, and preparing to kick through the panels, when his attention was aroused by the sound of heavy footsteps in the hall. They came nearer and nearer as he stood waiting, and at length stopped in front of the door. His only thought was that this was the lady whom he sought so he stepped back, and hastily composed his face to a pleasant smile of welcome. With this pleasant smile he awaited the opening of the door. But as the door opened his eyes were greeted by a sight very different from what he anticipated. No graceful lady-like form was there--no elder and maturer likeness of that Miss Lorton whose face was now so familiar to him, and so dear--but a dozen or so gens d'armes, headed by the landlord. The latter entered the room, while the others stood outside in the hall. "Well," said Obed, angrily. "What is the meaning of this parade? Where is Miss Lorton?" "These gentlemen," said the landlord, with much politeness, "will convey you to the residence of that charming lady." "It seems to me," said Obed, sternly, "that you have been humbugging me. Give me a civil answer, or I swear I'll wring your neck. Is Miss Lorton here or not?" The landlord stepped back hastily a pace or two, and made a motion to the gens d'armes. A half dozen of these filed into the room, and arranged themselves by the windows. The rest remained in the hall. "What is the meaning of this?" said Obed. "Are you crazy?" "The meaning is this," said the other, sharply and fiercely. "I am not the landlord of the Hotel de l'Europe, but sub-agent of the Neapolitan police. And I arrest you in the name of the king." "Arrest _me_!" cried Obed. "What the deuce do you mean?" "It means, Monsieur, that you are trapped at last. I have watched for you for seven weeks, and have got you now. You need not try to resist. That is impossible." Obed looked round in amazement. What was the meaning of it all? There were the gens d'armes--six in the hall, and six in the room. All were armed. All looked prepared to fall on him at the slightest signal. "Are you a born fool?" he cried at last, turning to the "agent." "Do you know what you are doing? I am an American, a native of the great republic, a free man, and a gentleman. What do you mean by this insult, and these beggarly policemen?" [Illustration: "Don't Move, Or I'll Blow Your Brains Out!"] "I mean this," said the other, "that you are my prisoner."