"That's capital! . . . We shall be more comfortable like this. . . . No, it's not worth while getting out your knife. . . . If you do, I'll wring your neck like a chicken's. You see, I'm polite and considerate. . . . I'm not pressing too hard . . . just enough to keep you from even wanting to kick about."
While speaking he took from his pocket a very thin cord and, with one hand, with extreme skill, fastened his wrists. For that matter, the baron, now at his last gasp, offered not the least resistance. With a few accurate movements, Sernine tied him up firmly:
"How well you're behaving! What a good thing! I should hardly know you. Here, in case you were thinking of escaping, I have a roll of wire that will finish off my little work. . . . The wrists first. . . . Now the ankles. . . . That's it! . . . By Jove, how nice you look!"
The baron had gradually come to himself again. He spluttered:
"If you give me up, Geneviève will die."
"Really? . . . And how? . . . Explain yourself."
"She is locked up. No one knows where she is. If I'm put away, she will die of starvation."
Sernine shuddered. He retorted:
"Yes, but you will speak."
"Never!"