"I have no more cord," growled Michael, as he tied the knots viciously about my wrists.
Something rattled lightly on the ground. 'Twas the girdle of the Countess, with the fan attached to the end of it.
Groder plucked the fan off, struck my heels from under me, and bound the girdle round and round my ankles until they jarred together and I felt the bones cracking.
Otto took his knee from my chest, and the two men went back to their former stations by the door.
Father Spaur came over to where I lay, rubbing his hands gently together.
"Really, really!" said he in a silky voice, "so the cockatoo has been caged after all."
The words, recalling that morning in London when first I allowed myself to take heart in my hopes, so stung me that, tied as I was, I struggled on to my feet, and so stood tottering. Father Spaur drew back a pace and glanced quickly about him.
"Michael!" he called. But the next instant I fell heavily forward upon his breast. He burst into a loud laugh of relief, and flung me back upon the settle.
I looked towards Ilga.
"What have you not told him?" I asked.