Instantly the motionless figure below arose and glided
noiselessly and swiftly up the flight of steps.

Two rude stone pillars flanked either side of the end of the
gallery. Like a shadow the black figure slipped behind one of
these, flattening itself up against the wall, where it stood
straight and motionless as the shadows around it.

Down the long gallery came the watchman, his sword clinking
loudly in the silence as he walked, tramp, tramp, tramp! clink,
clank, jingle.

Within three feet of the motionless figure behind the pillar he
turned, and began retracing his monotonous steps. Instantly the
other left the shadow of the post and crept rapidly and
stealthily after him. One step, two steps the sentinel took; for
a moment the black figure behind him seemed to crouch and draw
together, then like a flash it leaped forward upon its victim.

A shadowy cloth fell upon the man's face, and in an instant he
was flung back and down with a muffled crash upon the stones.
Then followed a fierce and silent struggle in the darkness, but
strong and sturdy as the man was, he was no match for the almost
superhuman strength of One-eyed Hans. The cloth which he had
flung over his head was tied tightly and securely. Then the man
was forced upon his face and, in spite of his fierce struggles,
his arms were bound around and around with strong fine cord;
next his feet were bound in the same way, and the task was done.
Then Hans stood upon his feet, and wiped the sweat from his
swarthy forehead. "Listen, brother," he whispered, and as he