"Not much pluck about William's son and heir," chuckled Bernard. "Lord, what a funk he's in! Hi, young–fellow–my–lad, pull yourself together! Where's your smelling–bottle?"
Paul had at last succeeded in cramming half the towel into his mouth. He lifted him up and said:
"Now let's be off."
"What do you propose to do?"
"Take him away."
"Where to?"
"To France."
"To France?"
"Well, of course. We've got him; he'll have to help us."
"They won't let him through."
"And the tunnel?"
"Out of the question. They're keeping too close a watch now."
"We shall see."
He took his revolver and pointed it at Prince Conrad:
"Listen to me," he said. "Your head is too muddled, I dare say, to take in any questions. But a revolver is easy to understand, isn't it? It talks a very plain language, even
