“Indeed I have always been loyal, my emperor,” interrupted Grace eagerly.  “How can you doubt me?”

Her situation was becoming more precarious with every minute.  She must persuade this terrible individual that she was necessary to his plans, if she wished to get away with her life.

“I have your welfare constantly at heart,” she continued.  “Have you ever thought of flying to our beloved France?  In the shed behind me is a strange ship that flies through the air.  Its sails are like the wings of a bird, and it flies with the speed of the wind.  It waits to carry us across the sea.  It is called an aeroplane.”

“I have heard of such things,” said Napoleon.  “When I was in exile, a fool who came to visit me showed me a picture of one.  He told me it could fly like a bird, but he lied.  I believe you are lying, too,” he added, looking at her suspiciously.

“Let me prove to you that I am not,” Grace answered, trying to appear calm, though ready to collapse under the terrible strain of the part she was being forced to play.  “Do you see this key?  It unlocks the door that leads to the flying ship.  Would you not like to look at it?” she said coaxingly.

“Very well, but be quick about it I have already wasted too much time with you.  I must be off before my enemies find me.”

“You must release my arm, or I cannot unlock the door,” Grace said.

“Oh, yes, you can,” rejoined Napoleon, not relaxing his grip for an instant.  “Do you think I am going to run any risk of losing you?”

As she turned the key he swung her to one side, and, opening the door, peered cautiously in.  For a moment he stood like a statue staring in wonder at David’s aeroplane, then with a loud cry that froze the blood in Grace’s veins, he threw up his arms and rushed madly into the shed, shouting, “We shall fly, fly, fly!”

With a sob of terror Grace slammed the door and turned the key.  She was not an instant too soon.  Napoleon Bonaparte reached it with a bound and threw himself against it, uttering blood-curdling shrieks.  The frightful sounds came to Grace’s ears as she tore across the field in the direction of Oakdale.  Terror lent wings to her feet.  Every second was precious.  She did not know how long the door would stand against the frantic assaults of the maniac.

She had reached the road, when, to her joy and relief, she beheld half a dozen men approaching.  Stumbling blindly toward them, she panted out:  “The crazy man—­I—­locked—­him—­in—­the Omnibus House.  Here—­is—­the key.”  She gave a long, shuddering sigh, and for the first time in her life sturdy Grace Harlowe fainted.

The men picked her up tenderly.

“Here, Hampton,” said one of them, “take this child over to the nearest house.  She is all in.  By George, I wonder whether she has locked that lunatic up?  Something has certainly upset her.  We’d better get over there right away and see what we can find out.”