Julian raised himself slightly from his recumbent position at the sound of the opening of the door. He watched Fenn with dull, incurious eyes as the latter crossed the uncarpeted floor of the bare wooden shed, threw off his overcoat, and advanced towards the side of the couch.
"Sit up a little," the newcomer directed.
Julian shook his head.
"No strength," he muttered. "If I had, I should wring your damned neck!"
Fenn looked down at him for a moment in silence.
"You take this thing very hardly, Mr. Orden," he said. "I think that you had better give up this obstinacy. Your friends are getting anxious about you. For many reasons it would be better for you to reappear."
"There will be a little anxiety on the part of your friends about you," Julian retorted grimly, "if ever I do get out of this accursed place."
"You bear malice, I fear, Mr. Orden."
Julian made no reply. His eyes were fixed upon the door. He turned away with a shudder. Bright had entered. In his hand he was carrying two gas masks. He came over to the side of the couch, and, looking down at Julian, lifted his hand, and felt his pulse. Then, with an abrupt movement, he handed one of the masks to Fenn.
"Look out for yourself," he advised. "I am going to give him an antidote."
Bright stepped back and adjusted his own gas mask, while Fenn followed suit. Then the former drew from his pocket what seemed to be a small tube with perforated holes at the top. He leaned over Julian and pressed it. A little cloud of faint mist rushed through the holes; a queer, aromatic perfume, growing stronger every moment, seemed to creep into the farthest corners of the room. In less than ten seconds Julian opened his eyes. In half a minute he was sitting up. His eyes were bright once more, there was colour in his cheeks. Bright spoke to him warningly.
"Mr. Orden," he enjoined, "sit where you are. Remember I have the other tube in my left hand."
"You infernal scoundrel!" Julian exclaimed.
"Mr. Bright," Fenn asserted, "is nothing of the sort. Neither am I. We are both honest men faced with a colossal situation. There is nothing personal in our treatment of you. We have no enmity towards you. You are simply a person who has committed a theft."
"What puzzles me," Julian muttered, "is what you expect I am going to do about you, if ever I do escape from your clutches."
"If you do escape," Fenn said quietly, "you will view the matter differently. You will find, as a matter of fact, that you are powerless to do anything. You will find a new law and a new order prevailing."
"German law!" Julian sneered.
"You misjudge us," Fenn continued. "Both Bright and I are patriotic Englishmen. We are engaged at the present moment in a desperate effort to save our country. You are the man who stands in the way."
"I never thought," said Julian, "that I should smile in this place, but you are beginning to amuse me. Why not be more explicit? Why not prove what you say? I might become amenable.
I suppose your way of saving the country is to hand it over to the Germans, eh?"
"Our way of saving the country," Fenn declared, "is to establish peace."
Julian laughed scornfully.
"I know a little about you, Mr. Fenn," he said. "I know the sort of peace you would establish, the sort of peace any man would propose who conducts a secret correspondence with Germany."
Fenn, who had lifted his mask for a moment, slowly rearranged it.
"Mr. Orden," he said, "we are not going to waste words upon you.
You are hopelessly and intolerably prejudiced. Will you tell us where you have concealed the packet you intercepted?"
"Aren't you almost tired of asking me that question? I'm tired of hearing it," Julian replied. "I will not."
"Will you let me try to prove to you," Fenn begged, "that by the retention of that packet you are doing your country an evil service?"
"If you talked till doomsday," Julian assured him, "I should not believe a word you said."
"In that case," Fenn began slowly, with an evil glitter in his eyes -"Well, for heaven's sake finish the thing this time!" Julian interrupted. "I'm sick of playing the laboratory rabbit for you.
If you are out for murder, finish the job and have done with it."
Bright was playing with another tube which he, had withdrawn from his pocket.
"It is my duty to warn you, Mr. Orden," he said, "that the contents of this little tube of gas, which will reach you with a touch of my fingers, may possibly be fatal and will certainly incapacitate you for life."
"Why warn me?" Julian scoffed. "You know very well that I haven't the strength of a cat, or I should wring your neck."
"We feel ourselves," Bright continued unctuously, "justified in using this tube, because its first results will be to throw you into a delirium, in the course of which we trust that you will divulge the hiding place of the stolen packet. We use this means in the interests of the country, and such risk as there may be lies on your own head."
"You're a canting hypocrite!" Julian declared. "Try your delirium. That packet happens to be in the one place where neither you nor one of your tribe could get at it."
"It is a serious moment, this, Mr. Orden," Fenn reminded him.
"You are in the prime of life, and there is a scandal connected with your present position which your permanent disappearance would certainly not dissipate. Remember - "
He stopped short. A whistle in the corner of the room was blowing. Bright moved towards it, but at that moment there was the sound of flying footsteps on the wooden stairs outside, and the door was flung open. Catherine, breathless with haste, paused for a moment on the threshold, then came forward with a little cry.
"Julian!" she exclaimed.
He gazed at her, speechless, but with a sudden light in his eyes.
She came across the room and dropped on her knees by his couch.
The two men fell back. Fenn slipped back between her and the door. They both removed their masks, but they held them ready.
"Oh, how dared they!" she went on. "The beasts! Tell me, are you ill?"
"Weak as a kitten," he faltered. "They've poisoned me with their beastly gases."
