scarcely a
minute ago, that I will tell you nothing whatever. And when I say a
thing, I mean it."

"Soh!" remarked the Chinaman. "Well, you shall have to-night to think
matters over; but if you have not altered that stubborn mind of yours by
morning, you shall make the acquaintance of some of these little
playthings"--indicating the various machines and instruments with a
delicate, long-taloned finger. "There are some here which are probably
new to you, but we, in this place, understand their use well. I will
leave you this lantern, so that you may study them carefully during the
night, and decide what you prefer to do."

With an ironical bow, the Governor then turned toward the door, his
fingers seeking the pocket where he had placed the key.

This was the moment for which Frobisher had been waiting; and with a
spring he hurled himself at the retreating figure of the Governor. But
that individual was not to be caught so easily. He must have glimpsed
the prisoner's face out of the corner of his eye as he turned, for he
was round again in a moment, and, dodging the Englishman's furious leap,
thrust a hand inside his jacket, and before Frobisher could get to grips
with him, he found himself confronted with the muzzle of a heavy
revolver, pointing straight at him, the Governor's forefinger already
crooked round and pressing the trigger.

"Not this time, my friend," smiled the Governor sardonically. "One step
farther, and I shoot to wound--painfully. Do you want an immediate
taste of what is in store for you to-morrow, or--" And, leaving the
sentence unfinished, the Chinaman slowly backed to the door, leaving
Frobisher glowering helplessly in the middle of the room.

With his back against the door and the pistol still levelled, the
Governor felt behind him, inserted the key, and turned the lock. Then,
with one swift movement he was outside; the door slammed, the key
grated, and the prisoner was alone once more.

"Well," he murmured, half-amused, despite his anger and disappointment,
"the rascal was too smart for me that time. But,"--here he lifted the
executioner's sword from its place in the corner--"things will be a
little different to-morrow, if that man is foolish enough to trust
himself here again alone."

Frobisher waited until the sound of his visitor's footsteps had died
away along the corridor, and then, congratulating himself upon the fact
that that worthy had left the light behind him, re-posses