th a face like ivory, he stooped and peered in
under the raised sash, rubbed his eyes, looked a second time, and with a
low cry, sprang into the room.

"Kasia!"

She was in his arms, close, oh! close to his heart.

"Oh, Dan, Dan!" she sobbed. "I'm so glad--so glad!"

And she kissed him with trembling lips.

CHAPTER XXVII

THE VOICE AT THE DOOR

It was nearly nine o'clock when Pachmann sat down to dinner that
evening, but he did so in an exceedingly pleasant frame of mind. He felt
that he had done a good day's work. In the first place, he had eluded
the spies; in the second place, he had enticed all the flies into the
web, where they were now securely entangled. There was just one way in
which they could regain their freedom; and that they would, in the end,
accept that way, the Admiral did not doubt.

Protests were natural, at first; inevitable, indeed, until their
indignation at the trick played upon them had subsided somewhat; it was
also inevitable that there should be some heroics, some talk of honour,
self-sacrifice, and such tom-foolery. But these vapourings would soon
come to an end; a few hours of sober reflection would work wonders in
dissipating them. And if there was need, why, it would always be
possible to apply the screw--the screw of hunger, the screw of solitary
confinement, the screw of sleeplessness, of fear, of anxiety--and to
turn it gently, gently. Oh, victory was certain now!

So Pachmann rubbed his hands together, mentally, at least, and enjoyed
his dinner immensely. It was a good dinner, but it did not seem to
appeal to Pachmann's table-companion. That was the Prince, summoned from
his room where he had sulkily immured himself, and obeying from force of
habit; but, strangely enough, his appetite, which was of a magnitude and
reliability characteristic of the Hohenzollerns, had evidently failed
him now. He trifled gloomily with the food, and drank more wine than was
good for him without any perceptible resultant lightening of spirit.

Plainly something was seriously wrong, but if the Prince expected the
Admiral to make any anxious inquiries about his health, or to express
regret for the scene of an hour before, he was disappointed. Beyond
cocking an amused eye at him, now and again, the Admiral took no notice
of him. So it was the Prince who had to open the conversation, which he
did as soon as the servants had withdrawn.

"Admiral Pachmann," he began, with heavy dignity, "I d