n
his heart.

"In that case we must lie outside and wait till they come out with the
Princess. Then make a sudden assault and rescue her. In the darkness we
can make them think there are a dozen rescuers," he whispered at length.
After a while Anguish asked another appalling question, the outgrowth of
brain-racking study:

"Suppose these fellows, who will be in guards' uniform, should turn
about and capture us. What then? We are strangers, and our story would
not be believed. They could slip away in the excitement and leave us in
a very awkward position."

"Harry, if we are going to hatch up all sorts of possibilities, let's
give up the thing right now. I have thought of a thousand contingencies,
and I realize how desperate the job is to be. We must either cast
discretion to the winds or we must retreat. Which shall we do?"

"Cast aside discretion and hang our fears," said the other, once more
inspired. "We'll take chances and hope for the best. If we see we are
going to fail we can then call for the guards. The grounds are doubtless
full of soldiers. The only part I'm worried about is the groping through
that strange, dark castle."

"We must do some calculating and we must stick close together. By
watching where they station the two Viennese we can figure about what
direction we must take to get to the Princess's room. Sh! Isn't that
some one approaching?"

They strained their ears for a moment and then involuntarily,
spasmodically shook hands, each heaving the deep breath of excitement.
The stealthy rustle of moving bodies was heard, faint, but positive. It
was a moment of suspense that would have strained the nerve of a stone
image. Where were the abductors? On which side of the road and from what
direction did they come? Oh, for the eyes of a cat!

There was a slight shuffling of feet near the gate, a suppressed "Sh?"
and then deathly silence. The gate opened, a faint creaking attesting
the fact, followed by the heavy breathing of men, the noise of subdued
activity, the scent of chloroform. Some whispering, and then the
creaking of the gate.

"They've gone," whispered Anguish. Lorry's form arose to a crouching
posture and a moment later he was crossing the road with the tread of
a cat, his cane gripped firmly in his hard. Anguish followed with drawn
revolver. So still was their approach that they were upon the figure of
a man before they were aware of the fact. In the darkness the foremost
American saw th