Unziar shook his head.
'You cannot pass, my lord.'
'What—not see my guest and cousin in my own house?'
'His Highness gave orders that none should be allowed to enter without giving the countersign chosen by himself.'
Sagan considered a second or two.
'True, I had forgotten. Come here, Unziar; your trooper there has long ears; I must speak with you. Stand back, men!' he said roughly. 'Baron von Elmur, pray remain, and you, Hern,' addressing the man behind. Unziar still stood upon the step.
'Come here! I tell you, man, I must see the Duke to-night—at once,' continued Sagan approaching Unziar. 'What the devil are you afraid of?' Unziar stepped down as the Count pulled him confidentially nearer to himself and towards the narrow entry. But while the Count whispered, a hand suddenly darted over his shoulder and seized Unziar by the throat, at the same moment when a well-directed kick from Sagan, delivered cunningly behind the knees, brought the young man to the ground. He lunged at Sagan as he fell with his sword, then it was knocked from his hand as his assailants swarmed over him, but not before he had fired his revolver into Hern's body. The man fell across him, but Unziar again swinging clear rose on his elbow and sent a second shot into the face nearest him. Meantime the trooper at the door was making a gallant fight, but the odds were too great. The struggle was soon over, the trooper's dead body flung aside, and Unziar, frantic and helpless, was tied hand and foot and left upon the bloody flooring of the outer passage while the Count's people forced the door.
This was a matter of some difficulty, but it was presently accomplished. The besieging party pushed through into the guard-room, which seemed brilliantly lit in comparison with the gloom outside.
Most of the furniture and the screen had been utilised by Rallywood to make a barricade in front of the Duke's ante-room. A single trooper with his musket levelled knelt behind it.
Sagan, who held a handkerchief to his cheek, spoke loudly.