It is usual when the powder is taken out to blow down the barrel and as he did so now he remarked that something was wrong.

The ramrod encountered some soft substance which he drew forth.
Juon smelt it and pronounced it to be the wax of wild bees.
"You see, sir, you will not be able to discharge this pistol, for the touch holes are so plugged up that it will take you some hours to thoroughly clean them." "At any rate I have still the firearms of my pandurs." "Let us examine them also, sir!" They did so forthwith and found that they too had been utterly ruined.
And all this must have been done while Szilard had been sitting outside and his men had been sleeping! "Then your sword is sharp, sir, eh ?" enquired the blind man, "for I hear the footsteps of Fatia Negra." The sensitive ears of the blind man "scented" so to speak the well known footfalls while they were still approaching on the distant forest paths.
The young man felt an involuntary shudder run through his body as the moment drew near when he would have to face the hunted foe.

The magical mysteriousness which enveloped his pursuer; the marvellous audacity which ensured the success of all his projects; his gigantic bodily strength--all these things were sufficient to make any man's heart beat more quickly at the prospect of encountering Black-Mask in a life and death struggle at a lonely place.
But Szilard was resolved to see the business through.

The strong will peculiar to men of his nature broke down his fear.

He had no business to tremble, it was not permitted to him to fear.