Rowland grinned at the frightened face beneath him while he reached for a napkin upon the table.
"You're a brick, Herr Taglitz," he muttered in English. "That's what you are--a brick. But bricks are silent--and harmless--unless in riotous hands."
"What are--are you"--croaked the prisoner.
The words were stifled by the napkin which Rowland thrust into his mouth. It was a large napkin and the ends tied firmly at the neck and chin made a neat gag. The two other napkins, one around his knees, the other at his elbows behind him completed Rowland's purpose, which was to render one hundred and sixty pounds of potential Prussianism as helpless as Rameses the Second. He rolled Taglitz under the table, assuring himself that the man was in no danger of death, then searched the lower floor for signs of other occupants. But the man had spoken the truth for there was no one else upon the lower floor.
CHAPTER XVI
RESCUE
With a heart beating high Rowland paused at the bottom of the flight of stairs to listen. A man's laugh--Herr Förster's, and in the room with him, Tanya!
This task was to be more difficult and Rowland felt rather pleased that it was to be so, for the impotent old man underneath the dining room table was already weighing on his conscience. Up the stairs he climbed, but he drew his automatic now for no matter what happened he was going to reduce the chances of failure to a minimum.
Again Förster's voice and Tanya's in reply. As his eyes reached the level of the floor he saw the line of light beneath a door upon his left and climbed quickly, approaching the door silently, upon tip-toe. Here he stopped to listen again for a moment while he planned what to do. If the door was locked he would perhaps have to find some other way to get in. Another door from an adjoining room----
But Förster's voice now came to him clearly.