intelligible that he could not remember it; then it was a painful
ascension: up a staircase they went with prodigious effort, stopping on
two landings.

"Two floors," counted Fandor. "We are coming to the end, and, all said
and done, I would rather be in a house than at the bottom of the river!"

A key turned in a lock; the trunk was pushed rapidly inside; then the
noise of a door being shut.

Fandor was in a room; no doubt, alone with the two bandits, and at their
mercy! He was plunged into complete darkness. Evidently the shutters
were still closed. The noise made by footsteps on the floor showed that
it was uncarpeted. Judging from the sound, there seemed to be little
furniture and no hangings in the room.

"Am I and my cage in an ordinary room, in a studio, or in a hall?"
wondered Fandor. In any case, the fellows who had brought him there
seemed anxious to avoid making a noise.

Then he felt the cover of the wickerwork trunk bend slightly and heard
it creak. For a moment, he thought the two men were about to open his
prison. He had his revolver ready: every inch of him was on the
defensive! Then he realised that his captors had merely seated
themselves on the trunk to rest!

They began to talk.

"This," thought Fandor, "is splendid! I shall hear everything they say.
Why, it is a conversation in my honour! What luck!"

Fandor was delighted: thanks to his position he would hear some
interesting secrets. He listened. Alas! He could hear every word they
uttered, but he could not understand what they were saying! Fandor swore
strictly to himself. The two wretches were conversing in German.

To the best of his judgment, a good hour had passed since the false
police inspector and his acolyte had left the room. They had simply
drawn to the door behind them, not troubling to lock it, much to the joy
of Jerome Fandor.

Absolute silence reigned.

Fandor attempted some discreet movements as a test. The wickerwork
creaked as he gently shook the trunk at short intervals. Not an
answering sound came from outside! Menaced with cramp, Fandor felt that
the moment of escape had arrived.

He was, certainly, the only living soul in the place: listen as he
might, and his sense of hearing was acute, he could not hear any sound
of breathing. Yes, the time to quit his prison had come!

Fandor had with him, besides his revolver, a box of matches, and a
hunter's knife consisting of several blades, and a little saw. Getting
ou