He turned his head in that direction. Either Maenck or Coblich
was sitting up peering through the darkness.
"Is that you, Prince Peter?" The voice was Maenck's.
"What's the matter?" persisted Maenck.
"I'm going for a drink of water," replied the American, and stepped
toward the door.
Behind him Peter of Blentz sat up in bed.
"That you, Maenck?" he called.
Instantly Maenck was out of bed, for the first voice had come from
the vicinity of the doorway; both could not be Peter's.
"Quick!" he cried; "there's someone in our room."
Barney leaped for the doorway, and upon his heels came the three
conspirators. Maenck was closest to him--so close that Barney was
forced to turn at the top of the stairs. In the darkness he was just
conscious of the form of the man who was almost upon him. Then he
swung a vicious blow for the other's face--a blow that landed, for
there was a cry of pain and anger as Maenck stumbled back into the
arms of the two behind him. From below came the sound of footsteps
hurrying up the stairs to the accompaniment of a clanking saber.
Barney's retreat was cut off.
Turning, he dodged into his own room before the enemy could locate
him or even extricate themselves from the confusion of Maenck's
sudden collision with the other two. But what could Barney gain by
the slight delay that would be immediately followed by his
apprehension?
He didn't know.
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