"You don't? And yet you saw yourself that he was not really bound
--that he had cut himself loose!"

"That is true," I said, thoughtfully.

"Let us reconstruct the story," Godfrey went on rapidly. "The traitor
discovers the secret of the cabinet; he follows Armand to New York,
shadows him to the house on Seventh Avenue, waits for him there, and
seizes and binds him. He is half mad with triumph--he chants a crazy
sing-song about revenge, revenge, revenge! And, in order that the
triumph may be complete, he does not kill his prisoner at once. He
rolls him into a corner and proceeds to rip away the burlap. His
triumph will be to open the secret drawer before Armand's eyes. And
Armand lies there in the corner, his eyes gleaming, because it is
really the moment of _his_ triumph which is at hand!"

"The moment of his triumph?" I repeated. "What do you mean by that,
Godfrey?"

"I mean that, the instant the traitor opened the drawer, he would be
stabbed by the poisoned mechanism! It was for that that Armand
waited!"

I lay back in my chair with a gasp of amazement and admiration. I had
been blind not to see it! Armand had merely to lie still and permit
the traitor to walk into the trap prepared for him. No wonder his
eyes had glowed as he lay there watching that frenzied figure at the
cabinet!