erry of Lady Trusia, who had
followed in the wake of the others, advanced no further into the room,
but stood with his back against the closed door.

One furtive glance cast in the direction of the cell from which Carter
and Carrick had just returned convinced the former that the old fellow
was at least aware of their explorations.

When the two privates had deposited their lanterns upon a table which
seemed to emerge from the gloom under the partial illumination, Carter
surveyed his prison with a curiosity previously denied him. One glance
was sufficient. The Gray Man had come to conduct an inquisition. What
more fitting place, therefore, could be found to strike terror to the
hearts of the guilty or weakling than the torture chamber of the
castle?

A man of keen perceptive nature is apprised of secret as well as
professed antagonisms, through a primitive discrimination, unaided by
either word or deed, of the one holding him in enmity. Carter felt sure
that with the possible exception of the equerry this visit to the cell
was not prompted by a friendly motive. They had, evidently, been
imprisoned in darkness that a sudden revelation of the devilish
machinery about them might shake their courage.

Carter's lip curled disdainfully at such cheap theatrical efforts. He
turned to the smirking face before him, which from behind the table was
watching for the signs of trepidation he had hoped to surprise. By an
answering smile as mocking as his own, he was satisfied that his ruse
had failed. He shrugged his thin shoulders.

Purringly in an incomprehensible jargon, he addressed Carter to receive
no other response than a blank and puzzled stare.

He essayed French.

"So, Monsieur of the White Police prefers the more polite language of
France? Well, so be it."

At the mention of that secret, ubiquitous organization of Russian
espionage, Carter realized that Carrick's prognostications had been
correct. The cool insinuation made his blood boil. His answer came with
the force of a blow. "What do you mean?" he thundered.

Staggered for an instant, the Gray Man's equanimity was shaken, then,
turning to speak to the two peasants, he waited until they had placed
themselves at the sides of the enraged American. Assured that he had
forestalled any possible violence to himself, he regarded the prisoners
sneeringly.

"That you are Russian spies."

"We are Americans. I will prove it, too, as soon as I am out of this
place; an