"You are not attached; you are detached.
Gentlemen, permit me, M.Carewe, detache of the American legation in Vienna, who wishes he had stayed there." Maurice saw a brace of revolvers on the mantel.

The table stood between.
"Well," he said, banteringly, "bring on your banquet; the hour is late." "That's the way; don't lose your temper, and no harm will come to you." "What do you wish of me ?" "Merely the pleasure of your company.

Lieutenant, bring out the treasure." One of the soldiers entered the next room and soon returned pushing Fitzgerald before him.

The Englishman was bound and gagged.
"How will you have the pheasant served ?" asked the leader.
"Like a gentleman!" cried Maurice, letting out a little of his anger.
"Take out the gag; he will not cry." The leader nodded, and Fitzgerald's mouth was relieved.

He spat some blood on the carpet, then looked at his captors, the devil in his eyes.
"Proceed to kill me and have done," he said.
"Kill you?
No, no!" "I advise you to, for if you do not kill me, some day I shall be free again, and then God help some of you." Maurice gazed at the candles on the table, and smiled.
"I'm sorry they dragged you into it, Maurice," said Fitzgerald.
"I'm glad they did.