"Give her to me, sir," he insisted, ignoring Carter's remarks entirely.
The Gray Man rubbed his hands together in open delight at the disfavor the two strangers were incurring and his cynical smile grew more evident every moment.
While an eye might wink the primitive man awoke in Calvert. He was prompted to fight for the woman he held as he stood measuring glances with his peremptory adversary. Then the folly of such resistance came to his mind, so with a sigh and a frown he permitted the other to take her from his arms. As he did so he felt not only that something intangible, delectable had been loosened from his clasp, but that its relinquishment had caused the life blood to move more sluggishly in his breast.
"We're up against it," whispered Carrick, who descending from the car had placed himself at his master's elbow for such eventualities as might arise.
Seemingly fearful of a conference between the two, the Gray Man gave a sudden order. Six men leaped from the hostile circle, and before there was an opportunity for resistance, Carter and Carrick were thrown to the ground and their arms were tightly bound to their sides.
The mocking face of the Gray Man regarded them as he bent over Carter's prostrate form.
"Get up," he said, touching the American ever so slightly with his toe.
"You shall pay for this," said the outraged Carter as he struggled to his feet.
"I am not indebted to you," was the sneering rejoinder, as, with the slightest of gestures, he intimated that the prisoners were to be conducted into the castle, through whose portal Her Grace of Schallberg was already being carried by the plethoric nobleman.