"Well, this is a nice mess I got you chaps into," said Hugh unhappily.  
"It's not your fault any more than it is ours," returned Nikka. "We walked squarely into a trap and were bagged. That's all."
 
"Were they ready for us?" I asked with what interest my aching head would permit.
 
Hugh laughed with hollow mirth.
 
"That girl Hélène has an uncanny mind. She told the others, when their trailers reported they had lost us, to watch out for a raid on Tokalji's premises. They were so exultant over it that they blabbed everything. They didn't hear the Curlew or see her. They didn't know we were here until we raised the trapdoor. But they were prepared for us no matter which way we came. They had brought in every man they could trust. We didn't have a chance."
 
"Did the Kings and Watty get away?"
 
"Must have. Hélène and the others said nothing about them."
 
"I hope they will not try anything foolish in the way of a rescue," said Nikka. "If Wasso Mikali establishes touch with them, I am afraid they may be tempted to do something."
 
"There is nothing they can do," answered Hugh. "Our goose is cooked. We're kaput, finished. As Hélène said, if the O.C. of the Forces of Occupation jammed his way in here, they could make a clean sweep of us. They might—"
 
He hesitated.
 
"—they might drop us down that grating in the floor, toss us into the Bosphorus the way Abdul the Damned used to dispose of his enemies. There are lots of things they could do with us. They will think that even if they have to scrag us they will still have the Kings and Watty to work on."
 
"Don't be too comforting," I observed with feeble sarcasm.
 
Nikka roused himself.
 
"There is no sense in abandoning hope," he remarked. "Is this any worse than that pill-box at Le Ferriere?"
 
"Good old Nikka," said Hugh affectionately. "I say, if I had to make an ass of myself I'd rather do it with two such prime—"
 
"Asses?" I suggested.
 
"—Not even to you would I say that, Jack," he retorted. "By the way, lads, we're not running true to form. In every tale I ever read in which brave, resourceful men were made prisoners, they gnawed each other's ropes and so gained their freedom."
 
Nikka chuckled at this.
 
"If I tried to reach either of you I'd roll over on my face," he said. "I've already tested the knots around my wrists. It would take a strong man half an hour to untie them, and a very sharp knife to hack through them. The only way we shall be freed is by help from outside."
 
"That means not at all," replied Hugh. "Let's try for a nap. It must be some hours to daylight yet—not that that matters any in this dark hole."
 
We slept fitfully, frightfully harassed by the curtailment of circulation due to the straitness of our bonds and the discomfort of our positions which we might not change. Hugh fell over in his sleep, and awakened Nikka and me with his groans as he endeavored to roll off his face. By persistent efforts he finally succeeded in getting on his back; but he was obliged to stay there, and advised us to retain our sitting positions if we could.
 
Of course, we had no means of estimating the passage of time, but we figured it was well into the forenoon when we abandoned further efforts for sleep. Nobody came to us, and we began to be aware of the pangs of hunger and thirst. At first we paid little attention to this hardship, but as the hours dragged along we realized that our desertion could mean only one thing: that our enemies were determined to assail our courage with every weapon they had. And to tell the truth, courage became something to grapple for after your belly turned upside down for emptiness and your tongue commenced to thicken. To add to our misery, the one lantern flickered out with a rancid stench of oil, and several rats discovered us. They feared us, perhaps, as much as we feared them. But their scamperings and sorties were nerve-racking, and we expected every moment to feel their sharp teeth in our wrists and ankles.
 
For a while we talked and sang and told stories, but our cracked lips and swollen tongues soon felt the strain of vocal effort. What the others did then I don't know, but I fell asleep—to awaken suddenly with a gasp of agony as I lost my balance and fell sideways, striking my head on the stone floor.
 
"Too bad," came Hugh's voice from the darkness, strangely muffled. "Hit your head, Jack?"
 
"Yes," I moaned.
 
"Twenty-four hours must be nearly up," croaked Nikka.
 
I fought for a while to work over on to my back, but my limbs had become so stiff that I could not. I had to lie on my stomach, with my head resting, now on one cheek, now on the other. In this position, ear to the floor, it seemed to me that I heard a clink of metal, not outside the door of the dungeon, but somewhere underneath. I asked the others if they heard it, but they said no, and I could tell from their pitying tones that they thought I was becoming delirious.
 
Yet again I heard it, and almost immediately afterward a wholly different sound: footsteps approaching the door. The two noises persisted together until the dungeon door was thrown open with a clatter. I forgot all about the first noise in the sight of Toutou LaFitte, standing by himself in the doorway, his shirt-sleeves rolled up and a grin of horrible anticipation distorting his beautiful face.
 
It was as though a mask of animal hunger cloaked his features. Their regularity was undisturbed. Each was in its usual place and relation to the rest, but their effect was entirely abnormal. They were warped and twisted by passions that must have rocked the foundations of the man's soul. His green eyes radiated an unholy light. His long arms were crooked and extended, his hands open and prehensile fingers hooked. He walked warily, bent-kneed, slowly. A slight trickle of saliva flowed from the corner of his mouth.
 
In the doorway he stood motionless for a moment, surveying the three of us. Then he advanced, leaving the door open against the wall, and unhooked the stable-lantern which hung from his belt. He placed this close to the grating, and prowled over to where I lay.
 
I say "prowled," and I mean just that. He walked like a big forest cat, or, rather, like a gorilla, investigating a likely meal awaiting the kill. When he stood by me, I felt up and down my spine the shiver of apprehension, of sheer horror, that I had known before in his proximity. When he turned me on my back, and his powerful hands, with their smooth fingers and polished nails, explored my muscles, I could have screamed with terror. I twitched at his touch, with an involuntary exclamation of repugnance. He snarled, and his fingers pressed on a nerve of the upper arm, with a force that made me faint.
 
But almost at once he flung me from him, and walked across to Hugh, who met him unflinchingly.
 
"I take it, Monsieur Toutou," said Hugh, "that the twenty-four hours are up."
 
Toutou stood over him, with that peculiarly animal, bent-kneed posture of meditated attack, arms flexed forward.
 
"Not quite," he answered in the throaty, guttural voice that I always identified with him. "But we are tired of waiting."
 
He swooped and snatched Hugh into his arms, just as a gorilla might, squeezing ferociously. Hugh's face showed above his shoulder, white and beaded with perspiration. I thought the fiend intended to crush Hugh's ribs, but he ceased as suddenly as he had begun and tossed his victim down on the floor again.
 
"You shall come last," he growled. "First, you shall see your friends suffer."
 
Hugh was too weak from the handling he had just experienced and the shock of his fall to see what happened next, but I did. Toutou leaped on Nikka with one tigerish spring, lifting him to his feet and propping him against the wall. Then he prodded Nikka from head to foot, testing out muscles and joints, all the time growling in his throat. He did not hurt him, simply felt of him as though to determine the parts of his body which would be juiciest.
 
Nikka's face showed revulsion, but no fear.
 
"Do you eat men, Toutou?" he gibed.
 
Toutou flashed his knife, and I closed my eyes, thinking to see the torture begin. But when I opened them again, the knife was slashing the ropes that bound Nikka's limbs. For a second I credited the incredible. Were we to be set free? But no. Toutou sheathed the knife, and crouched before Nikka once more, animal-like, menacing.
 
"I am a bone-breaker," he rasped. "I break men, bone by bone, joint by joint. Have you ever felt your bones breaking, your sinews cracking? Guuhhrr-rrrr-rrr-rr!"
 
He pounced, and Nikka screamed, screamed in an excess of agony as the beast's fingers sank into his shoulder, torturing the nerves, tearing the sinews and muscles, dragging the bone from its socket.
 
But there was another cry from the open door. With a whirl of skirts a slight figure darted in, a knife gleamed and plunged home, and Toutou started back from his victim, his own left arm dripping blood. His face was a queer mixture of rage, lust and puzzled alarm. Shaking his head, with the saliva trickling down his chin, he stood, frowning, like an animal more than ever, an animal which had been curbed and chastised. And before him, knife in one hand, pistol in the other, stood Kara, her eyes blazin............