Frau Wyburg emphatically denied that she was.
'Silence, hag!' exclaimed Sir Redmond; 'had you lived three centuries ago, you would have been burned before the Rathhaus as a witch!'
Her black eyes gleamed dangerously at this injurious remark, and on Sir Redmond turning away to prosecute a search elsewhere in defiance of the palpable evidence that the door had been locked on the inside, and that the key was still in the lock, Herr Wyburg, who was mad with consternation and drinking, roughly barred his way.
On the second finger of his right hand Sir Redmond wore a cluster of diamonds; so prominent and sharp were they that they cut through his tightly-fitting kid glove. These brilliants, as he dealt Wyburg a facer, laid his cheek completely open and nearly tore his left eye out, thus a terrible and most unseemly brawl ensued.
Wyburg was a man of enormous strength, and for whom the enervated baronet was no match in any way. Maddened by pain, the sight of his own blood flowing freely, by absinthe and eau-de-vie, inspirited by revenge and greed together, he resolved to make Sleath a victim now, and, though suffering from what the French call the folie paralytique which the two compounds referred to produce, he was simply savage, yet methodical, in his proceedings.
Rushing upon Sleath like an infuriated bull, he closed with him, and hurling him down the staircase flung him in a heap, bleeding and senseless, at the bottom.
When he recovered, Sleath found himself, secured in an attic of Wyburg's house, a prisoner, bound securely with ropes, stiff, sore, and bruised, his face and shirt front all plastered with blood.
Mr. John Gaiters, all the subsequent day, and indeed the day after, was sorely perplexed by the non-appearance of his master at the Hotel Russie, especially as the yacht of Mr. Dewsnap was now ready for sea.
Frau Wyburg assured him that they had seen nothing of Sir Redmond for several days, and as the young lady had gone he had most probably accompanied her; and with this perplexing intelligence the valet was compelled to content himself.
This story or suggestion seemed to receive a certain corroboration when Gaiters, who was well-nigh at his wit's end, on pursuing his inquiries at Herr Burger's bank in the Gras Keller, where Sir Redmond had letters of credit, found that a cheque, duly signed by him, had been presented there on the preceding day and cashed for a pretty large sum.