by E. J. Liston
voice was hoarse with it: "Look! I don'tknow what's going on. But whatever it is, I don't like it. Now get this!I'm a cop, and the character sitting alongside of you is my prisoner.And I'm going to take him come hell or high water!"
A ripple of laughter began which swelled to a roar as he finished. Andthe one who laughed the loudest was Lucretia.
"Now tell me, my valorous warder," she said in dulcet tones, "how willyou do this?"
"I don't know," Jenkins answered darkly and somewhat foolishly. "ButI'll manage. And another thing," he went on after a few seconds, "what'swith this rigmarole you're playing?"
"Rigmarole?" Her voice broke into tinkling laughter. "Oh, come now! Wedon't play games here. I'm really Borgia. So let us sup. Talk will comelater."
A servant had placed a dish before Jenkins from which the mostappetizing odors arose. Saliva formed in his mouth, and his empty bellyreminded him he hadn't eaten for a long time. He raised his fork andstarted to dig in, but the gesture was never completed. For suddenly hebecame aware that every eye was on him and that every mouth was twistedin a grin, that laughter hung silently on the air ready to explode atthe right second. They were but waiting for him to taste the food.
Nerveless fingers dropped the fork, and Jenkins' gulp was audible. Heknew why the grins and stares. _The food was poisoned!_ Yet the otherswere eating, loudly, gaspingly, tearing at the food with fingers andjaws, eating as though it was the last meal they were ever to have.
"Come, man! Eat!" the woman said between mouthfuls. She, like the rest,held little regard for manners.
"I--I'm not hungry," Jenkins said lamely.
"Too bad. It's so good!" Lucretia remarked. Her eyes were daring him.
There seemed to be dozens of courses, and Jenkins' hunger grew with eachserving. More than hunger seethed in his breast, however. Anger alsognawed at him. Anger got the better at last. He shoved his chair fromthe table, and it clattered backward on stumbling legs. All eyes turnedto him as he stood, his hands on his hips, his head shoved forward, chinjutting out like a rock.
"I've had just about enough of this!" Jenkins announced loudly. "I'mgoing. And you, Griffin, are coming with me."
Gone now were the smiles; gone the laughter. The eyes were cold andoddly expectant. Jenkins grew aware of the tense silence. He grinned,and began to withdraw slowly.
"Okay," he said softly, "so I'll go alone."
"Not even that way," Lucretia said. "My guests leave only at _my_bidding."
* * * * *
As though her words were a command, two of the men at opposite ends ofthe table rose and started for Jenkins. Their hands were wrapped aboutthe hilts of the short swords stuck in their belts. Jenkins continued toretreat slowly, though, until his foot struck against the chair whichhe'd shoved back. Then he moved like greased lightning.
His right hand swept around, gathered up the chair and flung it skiddingacross the floor, so that it wound up among the folds of the robe wornby one of the men. At the same time Jenkins leaped toward his otherwould-be attacker and chopped a right hook to his whiskered chin.
It was the signal for a general rush in Jenkins' direction, but Jenkinswasn't waiting. He hadn't even waited to see the effect of his hook. Theinstant the blow was delivered, he had turned and leaped for the wideentrance. He ran with all speed, his mind busy trying to remember theturns and danger points which might lie before him.
There was no need of that, he discovered. The shouting voices whichbayed the alarm brought other guards to the chase. Jenkins came to asliding halt as he made a turn in the corridor. The grin was still wideon his lips when his capturers brought him back to face Lucretia.
"I find it unseemly," she said as the guards forced him into a chair,"that a guest should feel so strongly about not wanting my hospitality.Surely, I have not been amiss in my attentions? If so, I must remedythat."
A roar of laughter went up at the words.
"Therefore," she went on, "we will do more than we have. Take him belowand make him feel as welcome as he should have felt from the beginning."
* * * * *
Sweat streamed from the dank walls. Feeble light came from a pair oftorches set into wall brackets, light which was offset by the heavysmoke the resinous torches gave forth. A dozen cloaked figures stoodaround the almost naked figure of a man chained wrists, ankles, and neckto the wall. Standing directly in front of the chained man, and facinghim, was another man, with a look of cunning cruelty on his face. Theone chained to the wall was Jenkins; and the man facing him was Griffin.
"Look, my friend," Lucretia Borgia said to Griffin, "all about you arethe implements of the trade. Here," she pointed with daintily gesturingfingers to a many-thonged whip, "is a tickler to make this fool dance.And when he tires, why here," she pointed to something which looked likea coal scuttle, "we have a bucket in which he can rest his wearied feet.Of course you may have to heat it a trifle, but I'm sure he won't mind."
The others shouted in glee at the humor they found in her remark.
Jenkins listened in bitter silence. The only visible sign of hisdesperate feelings was a tiny trickle of blood which seeped from onecorner of his mouth and ran down to the side of his chin. He had givenup straining against the steel chains which bound him. They had been settoo strongly into the wall. He prayed that he could take the physicaltortures to be inflicted on him without weakening.
Then Griffin was reaching for the steel-tipped whip, and Jenkins bracedhimself for the pain.
"Make him dance!" Lucretia commanded. "Pride needs music...." Shestopped suddenly and her head came up. The others also froze intolistening attitudes.
Jenkins had been aware of the odd sound for several minutes. He hadpresumed that the others were too interested in what was going on downin the cold, dank dungeon to be disturbed by sounds from the upperworld. The sound had a rumbling vibration, the rumble grew louder andlouder, and suddenly there was an ear-splitting crash. Dust and chipsflew from the walls.
"The giants!" Lucretia screamed in wild terror. "They are bowlingagain."
* * * * *
As one, everybody turned and began a pell-mell race for the stairs,until there was only the chained man left. And hard at their heels cameanother of the ear-splitting crashes. More chips flew, and now tinystreamers of water leaped from cracks which appeared in the stone. Againthere was the roar, another crash, and Jenkins moaned in pain as a largechunk of rock struck his side and tore the flesh.
He strained against the steel chains which bound him until he thoughthis blood would burst the bounds of his veins. He pulled again and againand until he could strain no more, until he could only fall limplyagainst his prison-links.
His mind was fevered and his thoughts jumbled. He had to escape somehow.Again there was heard that terrorizing crash. He gasped, and turned hishead aside, as a torrent of water poured from a fissure in the rockclose to his head and shot into his face.
He turned his head and felt the metal tear from the wall. His head wasfree. Like a madman, Jenkins tried again to loose himself. This time hesucceeded. And where the chains pulled free, water dribbled from thatspot.
With a desperate intensity, Jenkins made a superhuman effort and pulledat the chains binding his wrists. The chains came apart, tearing theflesh and leaving raw wounds. Wincing at the pain, he placed his fingersbehind his neck and felt of the steel. After a few seconds of probing,he twisted at the nut, which separated from the bolt with a single easytwist. He did the same with the chain binding his ankles--and Jenkinswas free!
The last length of chain fell into the water, which by now had formed afoot-deep puddle on the floor, and splashed loudly, as Jenkins racedagainst a new danger. Whatever was causing those crashing sounds wasalso weakening the foundations of the castle. Water was beginning topour in a perfect torrent from many cracks. The stairs to the floorabove was but twenty feet from where he had been chained, but even inthat short distance the water rose ano
ther foot.
* * * * *
Jenkins took the wide stone steps three at a time, and raced like wildaround the short curves. He had oriented himself as they brought himdown, and he knew exactly where he was going. Danger lay at the very topof the stairs, for here they were heavily guarded. Yet, when he reachedthe head of the stairs, not a soul was to be seen.
He became cautious, then. Being weaponless, Jenkins knew he would haveto rely on stealth. Slowly he advanced, until he was at the verythreshold of the large banquet hall. Now he heard voices, voices raisedin anger.
The loudest, most shrill of these voices, the one who commandedattention, was that of Lucretia Borgia: "You fools! Dolt heads! Whenthis is over
