and of any enterprise he may handle. There will be specious promises,
but small fulfilment. Beware of the lady who visited the Altstrasse
to-night. Hesitate to do her bidding. Unless I mistake not, you will
thank me for the warning one day," and then, turning to the men about
her, she said, "Unloose him."

They hesitated, and did not move.

"Unloose him, I say," and she stamped her foot sharply.

Two or three fell on their knees beside Ellerey and unfastened the
cords, and, stretching his limbs to take some of the ache out of them,
he rose to his feet.

"You are free," she said; "but for the safety of these men, you must
consent to be blindfolded, and led to the place you came from."

"By the same lady who brought me here?" Ellerey inquired.

"That might hardly be to her liking," was the answer.

At a sign from her, Ellerey's eyes were bound with a scarf, and in a
few minutes he was being guided along the streets.

"One moment, monsieur," said one of his guides, presently. "There are
footsteps, surely!"

Ellerey stood still and waited, listening. He heard no footsteps, and
presently did not perceive the breathing of the man beside him. Then
he understood the ruse, and tore the bandage from his eyes. He was