“ ‘It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,’ said he, ‘but we’ll makeit up to you. I must warn you, however, Mr. Melas, that if at anytime to-night you attempt to raise an alarm or do anything which isagainst my interests, you will find it a very serious thing. I beg youto remember that no one knows where you are, and that, whetheryou are in this carriage or in my house, you are equally in my power.’
“His words were quiet, but he had a rasping way of saying themwhich was very menacing. I sat in silence wondering what onearth could be his reason for kidnapping me in this extraordinaryfashion. Whatever it might be, it was perfectly clear that therewas no possible use in my resisting, and that I could only wait tosee what might befall.
“For nearly two hours we drove without my having the leastclue as to where we were going. Sometimes the rattle of the stonestold of a paved causeway, and at others our smooth, silent coursesuggested asphalt; but, save by this variation in sound, there wasnothing at all which could in the remotest way help me to forma guess as to where we were. The paper over each window wasimpenetrable to light, and a blue curtain was drawn across theglass work in front. It was a quarter-past seven when we left PallMall, and my watch showed me that it was ten minutes to ninewhen we at last came to a standstill. My companion let down thewindow, and I caught a glimpse of a low, arched doorway witha lamp burning above it. As I was hurried from the carriage itswung open, and I found myself inside the house, with a vagueimpression of a lawn and trees on each side of me as I entered.
Whether these were private grounds, however, or bona-fidecountry was more than I could possibly venture to say.
“There was a colored gas-lamp inside which was turned so lowthat I could see little save that the hall was of some size and hungwith pictures. In the dim light I could make out that the personwho had opened the door was a small, mean-looking, middle-agedman with rounded shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint ofthe light showed me that he was wearing glasses.
“ ‘Is this Mr. Melas, Harold?’ said he.
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr. Melas, I hope, but wecould not get on without you. If you deal fair with us you’ll notregret it, but if you try any tricks, God help you!’ He spoke in anervous, jerky fashion, and with little giggling laughs in between,but somehow he impressed me with fear more than the other.
“ ‘What do you want with me?’ I asked.
“ ‘Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentleman who isvisiting us, and to let us have the answers. But say no more thanyou are told to say, or’— here came the nervous giggle again— ‘youhad better never have been born.’
“As he spoke he opened a door and showed the way into a roomwhich appeared to be very richly furnished, but again the onlylight was afforded by a single lamp half-turned down. The chamberwas certainly large, and the way in which my feet sank into thecarpet as I stepped across it told me of its richness. I caughtglimpses of velvet chairs, a high white marble mantel-piece, andwhat seemed to be a suit of Japanese armor at one side of it. Therewas a chair just under the lamp, and the elderly man motionedthat I should sit in it. The younger had left us, but he suddenlyreturned through another door, leading with him a gentleman cladin some sort of loose dressing-gown who moved slowly towardsus. As he came into the circle of dim light which enables me tosee him more clearly I was thrilled with horror at his appearance.
He was deadly pale and terribly emaciated, with the protruding,brilliant eyes of a man whose spirit was greater than his strength.
But what shocked me more than any signs of physical weaknesswas that his face was grotesquely criss-crossed with stickingplaster,and that one large pad of it was fastened over his mouth.
“ ‘Have you the slate, Harold?’ cried the older man, as thisstrange being fell rather than sat down into a chair. ‘Are hishands loose? Now, then, give him the pencil. You are to ask thequestions, Mr. Melas, and he will write the answers. Ask him firstof all whether he is prepared to sign the papers?’
“The man’s eyes flashed fire.
“ ‘Never!’ he wrote in Greek upon the slate.
“ ‘On no condition?’ I asked, at the bidding of our tyrant.
“ ‘Only if I see her married in my presence by a Greek priestwhom I know.’
“The man giggled in his venomous way.
“ ‘You know what awaits you, then?’
“ ‘I care nothing for myself.’
“These are samples of the questions and answers which madeup our strange half-spoken, half-written conversation. Againand again I had to ask him whether he would give in and signthe documents. Again and again I had the same indignant reply.
But soon a happy thought came to me. I took to adding on littlesentences of my own to each question, innocent ones at first,to test whether either of our companions knew anything of thematter, and then, as I found that they showed no signs I played amore dangerous game. Our conversation ran something like this:
“ ‘You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you?’
“ ‘I care not. I am a stranger in London.’
“ ‘Your fate will be upon your own head. How long have you beenhere?’
“ ‘Let it be so. Three weeks.’
“ ‘The property can never be yours. What ails you?’
“ ‘It shall not go to villains. They are starving me.’
“ ‘You shall go free if you sign. What house is this?’
“ ‘I will never sign. I do not know.’
“ ‘You are not doing her any service. What is your name?’
“ ‘Let me hear her say so. Kratides.’
“ ‘You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from?’
“ ‘Then I shall never see her. Athens.’
“Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I should have wormedout the whole story under their very noses. My very next questionmight have cleared the matter up, but at that instant the dooropened and a woman stepped into the room. I could not see herclearly enough to know more than that she was tall and graceful,with black hair, and clad in some sort of loose white gown.
