As he stepped out upon the brick courtyard he was seized from behind by a pair of strong arms that clasped him tight. In a moment he was thrown across the threshold of a door into an unlighted room, where his captor promptly sat upon him and proceeded to strike a light.
CHAPTER V
A LOST CIGARETTE CASE
To other woods the trail leads on,
To other worlds and new,
Where they who keep the secret here Will keep the promise too.
—Henry A. Beers.
The man clenched Armitage about the body with his legs while he struck a match on a box he produced from his pocket. The suddenness with which he had been flung into the kitchen had knocked the breath out of Armitage, and the huge thighs of his captor pinned his arms tight. The match spurted fire and he looked into the face of the servant whom he had seen in the room above. His round head was covered with short, wire-like hair that grew low upon his narrow forehead. Armitage noted, too, the man’s bull-like neck, small sharp eyes and bristling mustache. The fitful flash of the match disclosed the rough furniture of a kitchen; the brick flooring and his wet inverness lay cold at Armitage’s back.
The fellow growled an execration in Servian; then with ponderous difficulty asked a question in German.
“Who are you and what do you want here?”
Armitage shook his head; and replied in English:
“I do not understand.”