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 Udo von Winden. Hammersley went over to their captive and examined his bonds and then gave the girl a few hasty instructions.

“I am going down below to be gone two—perhaps three hours.”

A quick intake of the breath escaped her but she caught her under lip in her teeth and said nothing.

“Don’t worry,” he went on cheerfully, “I’m coming back. I’ll promise you that. I’ve got a plan,” he whispered, “a new plan, a noble plan, a plan that will make our game an easy one. It will be harder for you than for me, Doris, because you’ve only got to sit and wait and try to be patient.”

While he was talking he had taken off the belts that contained the two pistols, fastening one around Doris. Then he took off his leather jacket and put it on the table, fastening the other belt containing Udo’s cartridges and automatic over his gray sweater. She watched him timidly.

“But suppose Graf von Winden should get his arms free,” she protested. “I cannot shoot him, Cyril—I cannot—not that”

“He won’t trouble you. I’ll arrange that.” He took from his coat pocket the documents captured from the Emperor’s messenger and held them up so that Udo von Winden could see them.

“I must leave you for a while, Udo. Awfully sorry, but it’s most urgent.” He laughed. “You won’t mind, will you? Or try to make things difficult?”

He turned quickly and while both the girl and the prisoner wondered what he was about to do, he went to the tin box in the corner, brought out a new candle, lighted it and held the papers so that the prisoner could see them.