"Pardon, senor. We had better bind him first. If he should recover before he reaches the vessel he might jump out and make his escape," replied the captain, drawing a large silk handkerchief from his pocket and tying the hands of the captive firmly behind his back.
"Lend me yours, Paolo," he next requested, holding his hands out for the required article.
With this second handkerchief twisted into a rope the captain firmly tied together the feet of the captive.
Jim was now as effectually bound as if his fetters had been iron or rope; but he was beginning to show signs of recovery. The viscount saw this and applied the chloroform again, and Jim relapsed into insensibility. In this condition he was conveyed into the boat and rowed swiftly to the vessel.
Meanwhile Lord Vincent and his confederates in crime retraced their steps up the cliff.
"We must be very quick this time, for the household will soon be astir," whispered Lord Vincent eagerly, as he noticed on the eastern horizon the faint dawn of the late winter morning.
They entered the castle, which, luckily for them, was still buried in repose, and wound their circuitous way back to the turret where the last victim, poor Sally, lay.
The viscount opened the oaken door and preceded his companions into her chamber.
But, oh, horror! Sally was awake and up! She was seated on the side of her bed and in the act of putting on her shoes. On seeing the viscount enter she raised her eyes and gazed in dumb amazement.
He lost no time. Like a wild beast he sprang upon her before she could utter a cry.