"Chloroform him, Harry, and don't let him make a sound!"
whispered the owner of the hand. Anguish's twitching fingers
succeeded those of his friend on the cook's throat, his pistol
was returned to his pocket, and the little bottle came again into
use.

"I'll go ahead. Follow me as soon as you have finished this
fellow. Be careful, and turn to the left when you come to the
top."

Lorry was off across the marble floor, headed for the stairway,
and Anguish was left in charge of the cook, of whom he was to
make short work. Now came the desperate, uncertain part of the
transaction. Suppose he were to meet the two conspirators at the
head of the stairs, or in the hall, or that the other traitor,
Dannox, should appear to frustrate all. It was the most trying
moment in the whole life of the reckless Lorry.

When near the top of the steps he hugged the high balustrade and
cautiously peered ahead. He found himself looking down a long
hall, at the far end of which, to his right, a dim light was
burning. There was no sound and there was no sign of the two
men, either to the right or to the left. His heart felt like
lead! They evidently had entered the Princess's room! How was
he to find that room? Slowly he wriggled across the broad, dark
hall, straightening up in the shadow of a great post. From this
point he edged along the wall for a distance of ten or twelve
feet to the left. A sound came from farther down the hall, and
he imagined he heard some one approaching.